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The  Secret  of  Success 


FINGER  POSTS 

UN  THE 

HIGHWAY  OF  LIFE. 


By  John  T.  Dale, 

WITH  AN  INTRODUCTION  BY 

JOHN  V.  FARWELL. 

"Not  what  I  have,  but  what  I  do,  is  ray  kingdom," — Carlyle. 


FLEMING  H.  REV  ELL, 
NEW  YORK:  CHICAGO: 
12  Bible  House,  Astor  Place.  148  and  150  Madison  Street. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1889,  by 
FLEMING  H.  REVELL, 
In  the  office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington,  D.  C. 


TO  ALL 
THOSE  ASPIRING  SOULS 
WHO    ARE    STRUGGLING    TO  ATTAIN 
TRUE  DEVELOPMENT  OF  MIND  AND  HEART,  SUCCESS 
IN   LIFE,   AND  HAPPINESS   HERE  AND 
BEYOND,  THIS   BOOK  IS 
RESPECTFULLY 


"  It  was  with  profound  wisdom  that  the  Romans  called  by 
the  same  name,  courage  and  virtue.  There  is,  in  fact,  no  virtue, 
properly  so  called,  without  victory  over  ourselves  ;  and  what 
costs  us  nothing,  is  worth  nothing." — De  Maistre. 


(Contents. 


Page. 

Pass. 

Have  a  Purpose  „ 

7 

Kindness  to  Animals  . 

2^0 

Tact  .... 

12 

The  Secret  of  a  Happy  Life 

2^0 

Make  Ready  for  Opportunity 

l9 

Love  of  the  Beautiful 

246 

Enthusiasm  _ 

22 

How  to  Be  Beautiful 

248 

Rely  on  Yourself 

27 

Manners  and  Dress 

What  Minutes  Are  Worth 

3° 

Mock  Modesty  . 

257 

The  Price  of  Success 

40 

Make  the   Most  of  Yourself 

259 

Choice  of  Companions  . 

46 

Guard  the  Weak  Spot 

263 

Enjoy  Life  as  You  Go 

51 

How  Great  Men  Have  Risen 

266 

Little  Things  _ 

56 

A  Literary  Life  _ 

269 

Bodily  Vigor  ... 

61 

Public  Speaking 

276 

Drink  and  Its  Doings  . 

64 

The  Lawyer  . 

290 

Make  Home  Attractive 

71 

The  Preacher  ... 

299 

The  Mission  of  Music  . 

78 

The  Teacher  ... 

306 

A  Sunny  Temper 

84 

Your  Duty  in  Politics 

312 

Be  Patient  _ 

87 

True  Culture  and  Progress 

317 

Building  Character  _ 

93 

Good  Talkers  and  Talking  . 

323 

What  Reading  Will  Do 

100 

Consolation  For  the  Dull 

335 

What  to  Read  . 

107 

Stage  Struck  _ 

34° 

How  to  Read  _ 

115 

How  Shall  We  Amuse  Our- 

Perils of  Skepticism 

120 

selves  _ 

344 

Study  of  the  Bible 

130 

What  Shall  Be  Done  with  the 

The  Christian  Life  . 

142 

Boys?  _ 

34S 

A  Talk  to  Boys  . 

148 

What  Shall  Be  Done  with  the 

A  Talk  to  Girls 

161 

Girls?  .... 

353 

Leaving  Home  _ 

168 

Shall  I  Send  to  College? 

357 

Female  Society 

173 

What  Young  Men  Have  Done 

36i 

Woman's  Sphere  and  Mission 

176 

What  Pluck  Can  Do  . 

366 

Marriage  _ 

1S4 

Hard  Work  Better  Than 

The  Mother's  Influence 

190 

Genius  _ 

373 

Influence  of  Children 

200 

The  Perils  of  Overwork  . 

378 

Training  Children  . 

214 

How  to  Keep  Well 

383 

Be  Kind 

225 

The  Sin  of  Worry  . 

390 

Our  Heavenly  Home  . 

394 

E?  PREFACE. 


OR  many  years  the  author  has  been 
gathering  from  various  sources  the 
material  for  this  work,  and  has  had 
in  mind  the  plan  which  he  has  carried  out  in 
this  volume. 

This  work  was  not  conceived  as  a  mere  whim, 
without  a  purpose,  but  was  begun  with  the 
earnest  desire  to  assist  those  who  are  striving  to 
gain  character,  intellectual  power,  business  suc- 
cess, and  the  merited  esteem  of  their  fellow  men. 

To  the  young,  it  aims  to  bring  radiant  hope, 
wise  counsel,  and  friendly  warning  ;  to  those  in 
middle  life,  practical  suggestions  and  hearty  en- 
couragement ;  and  to  the  aged,  calm  and  sooth- 
ing reflection. 

The  author  has  not  lacked  opportunities  for 
observation.  Coming  from  a  country  home  to 
the  great  metropolis  of  the  Northwest,  he  has 
been  for  many  years  in  the  whirl  of  a  busy  life ; 

he  has  seen  the  growth  and  development  of  suc- 

5 


6  PREFACE. 

cessful  careers,  the  overthrow  of  great  financiers 
and  fortunes,  and  the  accumulation  of  great 
wealth  by  men  of  humble  beginnings.  He  has 
had  the  opportunity  of  knowing  that  many  men 
become  involved  in  financial  or  moral  ruin  ; 
not  because  they  lack  ability  or  good  intentions, 
but  because,  away  back,  they  did  not  have  the 
word  of  caution  or  advice  which  might  have 
turned  the  course  of  their  lives,  and  led  them  up- 
ward instead  of  downward. 

A  wise  maxim,  or  rule  of  business,  has  saved 
many  a  fortune  ;  a  word  of  caution  has  saved 
many  a  precious  life,  and  a  word  of  warning 
many  a  soul. 

That  such  maxims  and  words  may  be  found 
within  these  pages,  and  that  many  may  take 
counsel  and  courage  from  them,  is  the  sincere 
desire  of 

The  Author. 


INTRODUCTION. 


By  John  V.  Farwell. 

Every  young  man  who  is  desirous  of  making  his 
life  bud,  blossom,  and  become  fruitful  in  all  that  is 
good  and  sublime,  should  remember  these  two  things 
— that  goodness  is  the  foundation  upon  which  sub- 
limity rests,  and  that  he  must  dedicate  every  power  of 
body  and  mind  to  achieve  a  result  so  glorious.  In 
other  words,  he  must  make  a  business  of  it. 

This  result  was  never  awarded  to  man  simply  be- 
cause he  asked  for  it,  nor  has  it  ever  fallen  out  by 
chance,  nor  been  given  as  the  consequence  of  unin- 
telligent labor. 

It  is  a  great  blessing  to  have  inherited  a  good  con- 
stitution and  strong  mental  characteristics.  They 
make  a  splendid  capital  for  investment.  But  after  all, 
it  is  the  labor  and  the  struggle  of  the  man,  in  their 
investment  and  use,  that  bring  the  priceless  return. 

General  Grant  was  probably  born  a  soldier.  But 
study  the  profound  mental  exertion  which  he  put  forth 
to  make  those  natural  gifts  crush  the  most  powerful 
rebellion  against  constitutional  government  that  ever 
broke  the  peace  of  nations  !  See  that  exhibition  of 
the  concentrated  energy  of  his  will,  when  he  replied 
to  General  Buckner's  request  for  him  to  name  the  con- 
ditions for  the  surrender  of  Fort  Donelson : 

"  Unconditional  surrender,  or  I  will  move  upon 
your  works!' 


vi 


INTRODUCTION. 


The  far-sighted  Lincoln  beheld  in  this  expression, 
the  revelation  of  the  greatest  soldier  of  the  age,  and 
he  advanced  him  as  rapidly  as  possible  to  the  com- 
mand of  all  the  armies. 

Such  revelations  as  this,  of  mental  power  and  pur- 
pose are  always  detected  by  men  in  commanding  posi- 
tions, and  they  are  ever  on  the  lookout  for  young  men 
to  carry  out  their  plans. 

There  are  more  great  opportunities  than  there  are 
great  men.  Some  one  who  has  a  place  of  power  to 
bestow,  will  give  it  to  you,  if  you  have  the  capacity  to 
fill  it.    There's  always  room  on  the  "top  shelf.1' 

The  author  of  this  book  presents  the  names  of 
Lincoln,  Grant  and  Garfield,  as  proofs  to  all  ambitious 
young  men,  that  they  need  not  be  discouraged  at  find- 
ing themselves  in  a  lowly  position.  These  heroes 
worked  their  way  up  from  obscurity  into  the  most 
powerful  place  of  usefulness  the  world  has  ever  known, 
by  carefully  and  conscientiously  using  the  talents 
which  God  had  given  them.  These  were  eminently 
self-made  men,  after  God's  fiat  had  made  them  of  the 
right  material.  Modest  to  a  fault,  they  worshiped 
not  themselves  as  makers  of  their  own  fortunes,  but 
the  God  who  had  endowed  them  with  the  power  to 
do  it. 

These  names  are  given  here  as  cotemporary  with 
the  young  men  who  will  read  this  book,  while  there 
are  hundreds  of  others  of  all  ages  and  nations,  whose 
names  have  been  introduced  into  the  pages  of  history 
to  let  the  light  of  their  example  so  shine,  that  bor- 
rowed rays  may  reflect  the  perfect  man  upon  the 
minds  of  to-day's  youthful  aspirants. 


INTRODUCTION. 


Vll 


That  nation  has  reason  for  pride  and  hope  which 
sees  a  generation  of  young  men  growing  up  who  are 
marked  by  lofty  purposes  and  a  noble  character. 

No  nation  has  had  to  form  the  character  of  her 
sons  under-greater  disadvantages  than  ours. 

For  many  years  Europe  has  used  America  for  a 
dumping  ground,  into  which  she  has  cast  her  moral 
and  political  refuse. 

At  a  recent  4th  of  July  celebration  in  London, 
where  three  hundred  American  delegates  to  the 
World's  Sunday  School  Convention  met  to  confess 
their  patriotism,  an  eminent  Englishman  said  that  the 
strongest  proof  of  our  national  greatness  was  in  our 
ability  to  make  good  citizens  out  of  such  wretched 
material. 

I  reminded  him  of  the  terrible  earnestness  of  our 
purpose  to  do  this,  as  revealed  in  the  execution  of  the 
Chicago  anarchists.  The  significance  of  that  tragic 
event  lay  in  the  determination  to  make  these  men  an 
example  to  all  those  who  refused  to  adopt  the  lofty 
standard  of  American  citizenship. 

Beside  this  great  obstacle  to  the  development  of  a 
noble  generation  of  young  men,  we  may  place  an- 
other, not  less  difficult  to  surmount.  I  refer  to  that 
pernicious  literature  with  which  American  greed  for 
gain  is  flooding  our  land,  and  which  panders  to  all 
the  natural  lusts  of  youth. 

Yellow  covered  novels,  police  expositions  of  crime, 
unblushing  publications  of  infidel  and  atheistic  views, 
are  being  circulated  with  enormous  rapidity,  and  are 
steadily  corrupting  the  rising  generation.  It  is  sad 
and  discouraging  to  see  the  railroad  news  agents  em- 


viii 


INTRODUCTION. 


ployed  in  their  dissemination,  and  I  trust  that  this  vol- 
ume may  be  placed  in  their  hands  for  sale,  and  that 
the  same  persevering  energy  which  has  through  this 
same  agency,  distributed  no  less  than  100,000  of  D. 
L.  Moody's  books,  may  make  such  works  displace  the 
vile  trash  too  often  sold  to  the  young  and  innocent. 

The  author  of  this  work  has  evidently  made  a  suc- 
cessful effort  to  furnish  another  antidote  for  this  worse 
than  light  literature.  It  is  an  inspiration  itself  to 
read  this  volume,  and  to  feel,  in  reading,  that  it  is 
the  prophecy  of  myriads  of  other  readers  among  the 
young,  who  will  catch  the  inspiration  of  its  pages  and 
lay  such  a  foundation  of  character  as  cannot  fail  to 
demonstrate  the  secret  of  successful  living. 

I  often  look  with  pity  upon  young  men  who  sit 
reading  on  the  trains,  such  works  as  cannot  but  pro- 
duce moral  and  mental  corruption. 

They  say  they  are  only  "  killing  time but  in  re- 
ality are  killing  the  best  things  in  themselves. 

Follow  that  young  man  over  there,  who  is  so  ab- 
sorbed, and  whose  excited  face  reveals  the  inward 
tumult  of  his  heart — follow  him,  I  say,  for  the  next 
few  years,  and  you  will  soon  discover  that  he  has  be- 
come an  actor  in  the  scenes  of  folly  or  vice,  about 
which  he  is  now  only  a  reader.  His  sallow  face,  his 
bleared  eyes,  his  wasted  form,  will  tell  you  plainer 
than  words,  the  dreadful  experiences  through  which 
these  books  have  led  him. 

Just  across  the  aisle  from  him  is  another  young 
man  who  would  scorn  to  read  the  stories  of  lust  ;  but 
he  has  seized  upon  and  is  devouring  a  noted  infidel's 
attack   upon   the   Scriptures.     He  follows   the  great 


INTRODUCTION. 


ix 


skeptic  as  he  skillfully  eliminates  the  supernatural— 
the  very  spinal  column — from  the  frame  work  of 
that  venerable  book,  leaving  it  only  a  shape- 
less jellyfish.  See  him  sneer  as  he  reads  this  ven- 
omous assault  upon  the  story  of  Lazarus!  He  joins 
Herod,  the  murderer  of  Jesus,  and  again  crucifies  the 
Son  of  God  afresh.  He  is  a  philosopher  !  He  be- 
lieves only  what  can  be  seen  and  heard  !  But  alas,  in 
a  few  short  years,  when  trouble  comes,  the  poor  fel- 
low finds  himself  drifting  on  life's  sea,  without  chart, 
compass,  or  anchor.  Our  country  is  full  of  such  vic- 
tims of  pernicious  literature. 

It  were  well  if  such  young  men  could  read  the 
1 2th  chapter  of  the  Book  of  Acts,  and  follow  up  that 
reading  with  a  study  of  the  church  statistics  of  to-day. 
They  will  be  the  best  answer  to  speculative  infidelity, 
and  show  whether  the  "  gates  of  hell"  are  prevailing 
against  the  kingdom  of  Jesus  Christ. 

Let  me  ask  you  to  look  at  one  other  young  man 
on  this  same  train.  He  has  in  his  hand  and  is 
greedily  devouring  it,  some  standard  history*  or 
treatise  on  some  scientific  question.  All  his  fac- 
ulties are  awake,  and  he  grapples  with  great  prob- 
lems. A  few  short  hours  ago  he  opened  the  door  of 
the  old  farmhouse  where  he  had  been  carefully 
reared,  and  started  out  to  achieve  a  career.  His 
mother  followed  him  to  the  gate,  imprinted  her  fare- 
well kiss  upon  his  lips  and  with  tearful  eyes  bade  him 
read  good  books,  associate  with  good  companions,  and 
allow  himself  only  pure  amusements.  He  looks  as  if 
he  had  determined  to  follow  that  advice,  and  if  he  does, 


X 


INTRODUCTION. 


you  may  be  sure  that  it  will  not  be  many  years  before 
he  will  occupy  an  enviable  place  in  the  world. 

Good  books,  good  companions,  pure  amusements 
and  noble  purposes  ! — Ah,  young  men,  keep  them 
always  in  your  hearts.  Above  all  other  books,  cherish 
the  old  Bible. 

I  often  think  of  the  remark  of  one  of  England's 
greatest  men  :  "  I  have,"  said  he,  "  objects  in  life  so 
deeply  interesting  as  they  proceed,  and  so  full  of 
promise  as  to  the  magnitude  of  their  results,  that 
they  ought  to  absorb  my  whole  being.  I  would  not 
exchange  objects  in  life  with  any  living  man." 

The  author  of  these  words  accomplished  the  abo- 
lition of  slavery  in  the  British  colonies  by  act  of  Par- 
liament. 

Reader,  you  may  never  have  the  opportunity  to 
accomplish  results  of  such  magnitude,  but  you  can 
achieve  a  noble  life.  An  unseen  violet  is  no  less  beau- 
tiful than  one  which  every  eye  beholds.  A  work  is 
no  less  great,  although  its  author  is  forgotten  or  un- 
known. Do  your  work  for  God,  the  author  of  your 
being,  and  he  will  reward  you  if  it  is  well  done. 

I  hope  and  I  believe  that  the  end  which  the 
author  of  this  book  so  earnestly  and  so  wisely  aims  at 
—the  ennobling  of  the  moral  natures  of  young  men, 
will  be,  to  a  large  degree,  accomplished  by  its  whole- 
some, truthful  pages,  and  thus  prove  a  true  finger-post 
to  the  real  secret  of  success. 


THE  SECRET  OF  SUCCESS. 

P?AYE  A  ©UI^POSB. 


DESCRIPTION  has  been  given  of  some 
explorers  in  the  Arctic  regions  who  found 
a  vessel  whose  crew  was  frozen  into  statues 
of  ice.  The  helmsman  was  at  his  post  with 
his  hand  on  the  helm;  the  captain  was  at  his  log  book, 
the  pen  in  his  fingers,  with  which  he  had  written  the 
words,  "  For  a  whole  day  the  steward  has  been  trying 
in  vain  to  kindle  the  lost  fire."  Below,  tjie  form  of  the 
steward  was  found,  with  flint  and  tinder  in  his  hands, 
while  on  the  deck,  was  the  watchman,  looking  off, — 
his  frozen  eyes  fixed  with  the  gaze  of  despair.  They 
had  the  form  and  attitude  of  living  men,  but  that  only. 

This  might  be  used  as  an  illustration  of  those  who 
live  without  a  purpose;  they  have  the  forms,  the 
features,  the  organisms  of  the  living,  but  their  lives 
are  stagnated  and  petrified  by  the  dead  inertia  of  list- 
lessness  and  inaction. 

7 


8 


HAVE  A  PURPOSE. 


Samuel  Johnson,  the  great  moralist,  said:  uLife, 
to  be  worthy  of  a  rational  being,  must  be  always  in 
progression;  we  must  always  purpose  to  do  more  and 
better  than  in  past  times.  The  mind  is  elevated  and 
enlarged  by  mere  purposes,  even  though  they  end  as 
they  begin,  by  airy  contemplation.  We  compare  and 
judge,  though  we  do  not  practice.1' 

There  is  a  saying,  "  Aim  high;  but  not  so  high  as 
not  to  be  able  to  hit  anything.''' 

Some  writer  has  said:  "A  highly  successful  career 
must  have  some  one  aim  above  every  other.  Jacks-of- 
all-trades  are  useful  in  many  ways,  but  their  very  ver- 
satility operates  against  their  winning  great  success  in 
any  line.  The  specialists  succeed  best.  Whatever 
the  specialty  be,  the  concentration  of  effort  which  it 
demands  accomplishes  much.  True  success  depends 
on  deciding  what  really  is  the  highest  object  in  life, 
and  what  the  relative  value  of  other  objects,  and  on 
the  proportioning  of  efforts  accordingly." 

It  is  a  sad  truth  that  "  The  greater  part  of  all  the 
mischief  of  the  world,  comes  from  the  fact  that  men  do 
not  sufficiently  understand  their  own  aims.  They 
have  undertaken  to  build  a  tower,  and  spend  no  more 
labor  on  the  foundation  than  would  be  necessary  to 
erect  a  hut.'7 

The  scientist,  Louis  Agassiz,  when  asked  by  a  friend 
why,  with  his  ability,  he  was  satisfied  with  so  small 
an  income,  said,  "  I  have  enough.  I  have  no  time  to 
make  money.    Life  is  not  sufficiently  long  to  enable  a 


HAVE  A  PURPOSE. 


9 


man  to  get  rich  and  do  his  duty  to  his  fellow-men  at 
the  same  time.1'  His  purpose  in  life  was  to  be  a 
teacher,  and  an  expounder  of  Nature;  and  no  tempta- 
tion of  mere  money  getting:  could  swerve  him  from  his 
course. 

Canon  Farrar  thus  forcibly  illustrates  this  thought: 
"  One  of  the  great  English  writers,  when  he  went  to 
college,  threw  away  the  first  two  years  of  his  time  in 
gossip,  extravagance  and  noise.  One  morning  one  of 
the  idle  set  whom  he  had  joined,  came  into  his  room 
before  he  had  risen,  and  said,  '  Paley,  you  are  a  fool. 
You  are  wasting  your  time  and  wasting  your  chances. 
Your  present  way  of  going  on  is  silly  and  senseless. 
Do  not  throw  away  your  life  and  your  time.7  That 
man  did  what  a  friend  ought  to  do,  and  saved  for 
England  and  for  the  Church  the  genius  and  services  of 
a  great  man.  1  I  was  so  struck  with  what  he  said,' 
says  Paley,  k  that  I  lay  in  bed  till  I  had  formed  my 
plan.  I  ordered  my  fire  to  be  always  laid  over-night. 
I  rose  at  five,  read  steadily  all  day,  allotted  to  each 
portion  of  time  its  proper  branch  of  study,  and  thus, 
on  taking  my  bachelor's  degree,  I  became  senior 
wrangler.'  It  was  something  to  make  this  intellectual 
resolve,  and  so  redeem  a  life  from  meaningless  frivolity; 
but  how  infinitely  more  important  is  it  to  do  so  mor- 
ally, to  rouse  ourselves,  ere  it  be  too  late,  from  the 
criminal  folly  and  frivolity  of  moral  indifference !  The 
means  are  open  to  us  all.  They  are  seriousness, 
thought,  prayer,  a  diligent  endeavor  to  obtain  and 


IO 


HAVE  A  PURPOSE. 


rightly  use  the  abounding  grace  of  God.  May  every 
one  of  us  who  is  already  trying  to  walk  aright,  make 
his  resolve  to  go  straight  on.  May  every  one  of  us 
who  is  wavering  in  his  choice,  decide  at  once  and  for- 
ever. May  every  one  of  us  who  has  gone  astray, 
struggle  back,  ere  it  be  too  late,  to  the  narrow  path. 

"  That  is  the  sum  of  a  noble  life.  To  act  thus  is  the 
loftiest  of  all  objects.  And,  as  it  is  the  loftiest  of  all 
objects,  so  it  is  likewise  the  richest  of  all  rewards.  It 
is  to  serve  God  here  and  to  enjoy  him  forever  in  heaven 
hereafter." 

At  the  battle  of  the  Alma,  in  the  Crimean  war,  one 
of  the  ensigns  stood  his  ground  when  the  regiment  re- 
treated. The  captain  shouted  to  him  to  bring  back 
the  colors,  but  the  ensign  replied,  "  Bring  the  men  up 
to  the  colors." 

So  in  the  battle  of  life,  let  us  plant  ourselves  on  a 
high,  noble  purpose,  never  to  abandon  it  in  retreat,  but 
to  hold  fast  our  ground  to  victory.  It  has  been  truly 
said  that  "great  minds  have  purposes,  others  have 
wishes,"  and  that,  "  The  most  successful  people  are 
those  who  have  but  one  object  and  pursue  it  with  great 
persistence."  "The  great  art,"  says  Goethe,  "is  to 
judiciously  limit  and  isolate  one's  self." 

Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge  was  a  man  who  possessed 
a  loveable  heart  and  one  of  the  finest  intellects  of  any 
man  in  his  age.  He  had  a  descriptive  power  and  a 
flow  of  language  that  was  remarkable.  Christopher 
North,  his  contemporary  and  critic,  speaks  of  his  con- 


HAVE  A  PURPOSE. 


I  I 


versation  as  "eloquent  music  without  a  discord;  full, 
ample,  inexhaustible,  almost  divine."  In  his  loftiest 
moods  he  spoke  like  one  inspired.  The  ear  was  de- 
lighted with  the  melodious  words  that  flowed  from 
"  an  epicure  in  sound.' '  But  there  was  little  nourish- 
ment in  these  musical  utterances  of  one  who  seemed 
to  have  given  himself  up  to  uthe  lazy  luxury  of 
poetical  outpouring."  And  this  great  man  with  all 
his  marvelous  powers  was  a  failure,  and  disap- 
pointed the  expectations  of  his  friends,  because  he 
lacked  a  purpose  in  life.  He  was  indolent,  became 
addicted  to  the  use  of  opium,  which  destroyed  mind 
and  body,  and  his  life  went  out  embittered  and  cheer- 
less. Such  a  life  is  a  warning  to  all  who  rely  on  gen- 
ius and  inspiration  for  success  instead  of  steady  appli- 
cation and  industry. 

We  shape  ourselves  the  joy  or  fear 
Of  which  the  coming  life  is  made, 

And  fill  our  Future's  atmosphere 
With  sunshine  or  with  shade. 

The  tissue  of  the  life  to  be 

We  weave  with  colors  all  our  own; 

And  in  the  field  of  Destiny, 
We  reap  as  we  have  sown. 

—  Whit  tier. 


<§AGUi. 


^yHj  priceless  discretion  which  makes  the  wise 
^   man  to  differ  from  the  fool;  that  invaluable 


ACT  has  been  defined  "as  the  judicious  use 
of  our  powers  at  the  right  time."    It  is  that 


knowledge  by  which  we  know  how  to  make  the  world 
about  us  a  stepping-stone  to  our  success,  and  all  the 
conditions  around  us  but  so  many  rounds  in  the  ladder 
by  which  we  rise. 

It  is  said  that  on  one  occasion  the  first  Napoleon  rode 
in  advance  of  his  army  and  came  to  a  river  over  which 
it  was  necessary  that  it  should  pass.  There  was  no 
bridge,  but  the  imperious  commander  was  not  daunted 
by  this  obstacle,  and  immediately  began  preparations 
to  cross  it.  Calling  his  engineer,  he  said,  u  Give  me 
the  breadth  of  this  stream."  "Sire*  I  cannot,""  was  the 
reply.  "My  scientific  instruments  are  with  the  army, 
and  we  are  ten  miles  in  advance  of  it."  The  great 
Emperor  repeated  his  command,  "  Tell  me  the  breadth 
of  this  stream  instantly.1'  "  Sire,  be  reasonable."  The 
indomitable  general  replied,  "  Ascertain  at  once  the 
width  of  this  river,  or  you  shall  be  deposed  from  your 
office."  Now  comes  the  triumph  of  tact,  for  the  en- 
gineer proved  himself  equal  to  the  emergency.  He 
drew  down  the  cap  piece  on  his  helmet  till  the  edge  of 


I  2 


TACT. 


15 


it  just  touched  the  bank  on  the  other  side  of  the  river, 
and  then  turned  around  carefully  on  his  heel,  and 
marked  the  point  where  the  cap  piece  touched  the 
ground  on  the  side  of  the  river  where  he  stood.  He 
then  paced  the  distance,  and  turning  to  the  Emperor 
said,  "  This  is  the  breadth  of  the  stream,  approx- 
imately." He  had  tact,  and  was  at  once  promoted 
for  the  success  of  his  ready  and  simple  expedient. 
That  engineer  might  have  had  the  most  profound 
knowledge  of  mathematics,  and  of  all  the  abstruse  and 
complicated  details  incident  to  his  profession,  but  with- 
out tact  all  would  have  been  of  no  avail. 

One  of  the  greatest  triumphs  of  Daniel  O'Connell 
was  in  the  management  of  a  witness,  during  which  he 
revealed  wonderful  tact.  He  was  employed  by  parties 
interested  in  a  will,  which  they  suspected  to  be  fraudu 
lent,  to  investigate  the  matter  at  the  time  it  was  being 
proven.  He  noticed  that  one  of  the  witnesses  repeated 
several  times  the  words  "  that  life  was  in  the  testator 
when  he  signed  the  will.1"'  "  Now,"  said  O'Connell, 
"  will  you  swear  that  there  was  not  a  live  fly  in  the  dead 
man's  mouth  when  his  hand  was  placed  on  the  will?" 
The  witness,  terror-stricken  at  the  discoverv  of  the  in- 
iquitous scheme,  fell  on  his  knees,  and  confessed  that 
it  was  so. 

Precisely  the  same  quality  is  needed  in  the  practical 
concerns  of  life, — a  business  man  comes  to  an  obstacle 
which  appears  insurmountable;  he  must  have  tact  to 
make  use  of  his  resources  so  as  to  overcome  it,  or  he 


TACT. 


may  be  overwhelmed  with  destruction.  And  not  only 
in  business  affairs,  but  in  the  every-day  concerns  of 
life,  tact  is  needed  to  smooth  over  difficulties  and  to 
make  the  best  of  untoward  circumstances. 

Byron,  who  was  not  only  a  great  poet,  but  an  acute 
observer  of  men  and  things,  says:  "  A  man  may  have 
prudence,  justice,  temperance  and  fortitude,  yet,  want- 
ing tact,  may  and  must  render  those  around  him  un- 
comfortable, and  so  be  unhappy  himself.  I  consider  tact 
the  real  panacea  of  life,  and  have  observed  that  those 
who  most  completely  possess  it  are  remarkable  for  feel- 
ing and  sentiment,  while,  on  the  contrary,  the  persons 
most  deficient  in  it  are  obtuse,  frivolous  or  insensible. 
To  possess  tact  it  is  necessary  to  have  fine  perception 
and  to  be  sensitive." 

Tact  is  one  of  the  qualities  of  great  minds,  and 
makes  them  master  of  all  situations.  No  place  so 
awkward  but  that  it  puts  one  at  his  ease,  no  combina- 
tion of  circumstances  so  complex  and  embarrassing 
but  what  it  can  control  and  regulate.  When  the  im- 
mortal Shakespeare  was  acting  in  one  of  his  own  inim- 
itable plays  before  Queen  Elizabeth,  she  occupied  a 
box  near  the  stage,  and  purposely  dropped  her  hand- 
kerchief on  the  stage  to  see  whether  the  great  dramatist 
would  be  discomposed.  But  he  had  a  native  tact,  and 
proved  himself  readier  than  all  the  heroes  he  created, 
for  he  saw  the  fallen  handkerchief,  and  calmly  said,  as 
if  the  words  were  in  the  play,  "  And  now,  before  we 
further  go,  we  will  pick  up  our  sister's  handkerchief," 


TACT. 


15 


and  then  advanced,  picked  it  up  and  presented  it  to 
the  queen,  who  bowed,  pleased  with  the  tact  and 
presence  of  mind  of  the  great  bard. 

The  late  Dr.  Guthrie  was  once  preaching  in  a  large 
church  in  Edinburgh,  which  was  crowded  with  a  fash- 
ionable congregation.  After  the  psalm  was  given  out 
the  leader  of  the  music  started  a  tune,  but  it  would 
not  go  to  the  words.  He  tried  another,  but  with  no 
better  success.  The  poor  man  was  now  completely 
bewildered,  but  tried  a  third,  and  broke  down.  In 
this  embarrassing  dilemma,  which  threatened  to  dis- 
compose the  audience  and  to  spoil  the  entire  ser- 
vice, Dr.  Guthrie  showed  his  ready  tact,  and  rising, 
said,  "  Let  us  pray,"  and  the  awkward  mishap  was 
over. 

How  often,  by  a  single  stroke  of  tact,  has  an  ordi- 
nary accident  or  circumstance  been  made  to  pave  the 
way  for  a  grand  success.  Mr.  Coutts,  the  founder  of 
the  great  bank  which  has  since  become  so  enormously 
rich,  by  exercising  a  little  tact,  laid  the  foundation  of 
his  extended  patronage.  He  sent  word  to  a  distin- 
guished peer,  who,  he  had  heard,  had  been  refused  a 
loan  of  ten  thousand  pounds,  to  call  at  his  office.  The 
peer,  much  surprised,  called,  and  Coutts  offered  to 
make  the  loan.  "  But  I  can  give  no  security,"  said 
the  nobleman.  "  Your  lordship's  note  of  hand  will  be 
quite  sufficient,"  was  the  prompt  reply.  The  loan  was 
accepted,  and  five  thousand  pounds  was  left  on  deposit. 
The  story  soon  became  widely  circulated,  other  peers 


i6 


TACT. 


transferred  their  funds,  and  then  the  king,  after  a  per- 
sonal interview  with  the  banker,  being  pleased  with 
his  modesty  and  intelligence,  placed  the  royal  funds 
in  the  institution,  and  thus  it  became  the  favorite 
bank  of  the  aristocracy.  True,  it  may  be  said  that 
this  was  a  bold  experiment,  and  contrary  to  safe  bank- 
ing rules,  but  it  must  be  remembered  that  it  is  the 
province  of  tact  to  undertake  and  accomplish  that 
which  others  think  impossible,  and  it  requires  as  much 
tact  to  know  what  to  do,  as  how  to  do  it. 

One  of  the  remarkable  qualities  of  Bismarck,  the 
great  German  statesman,  is  his  ready  tact.  By  this 
he  has  managed  men  and  manipulated  events,  as  if  the 
map  of  Europe  was  a  huge  chess  board  and  he  the 
consummate  player,  making  his  combinations  and 
moving  them  about  at  his  will.  An  incident  is  narrated 
of  him  in  the  early  part  of  his  diplomatic  career, 
which  shows  his  coolness  and  tact.  He  was  ap- 
pointed an  ambassador  to  the  German  Confederation, 
and  the  president  of  the  august  body  was  an  Austrian,  a 
man  of  a  haughty  and  arrogant  manner,  and  disposed  to 
make  Bismarck  feel  his  relative  inferiority.  At  Bis- 
marck's first  visit  of  ceremony,  the  Austrian  received 
him  in  his  shirt  sleeves.  Bismarck  no  sooner  caught 
sight  of  him  than  he  called  out,  "  You  are  quite  right, 
Excellency,  it  is  awfully  hot  here,"  and  at  once  pulled  off 
his  own  coat,  in  the  coolest  manner  imaginable.  The 
president  was  completely  taken  aback,  jumped  up  anc 
put  on  his  uniform,  and  apologized  for  his  inadvertence 


TACT. 


17 


How  skillfully  the  man  of  tact  will  turn  an  embar- 
rassing circumstance  to  his  advantage,  and  make  an 
awkward  event,  which  would  have  discomfited  others, 
a  fresh  victory  over  opposing  forces.  The  celebrated 
Lord  North  was  once  in  the  midst  of  an  important 
speech  in  Parliament,  when  he  was  interrupted  by  the 
furious  barking  of  a  dog,  which  had  got  in  the  hall. 
The  house  roared  with  laughter,  in  which  the  speaker 
heartily  joined.  When  order  was  restored,  he  turned 
to  the  chairman  and  said,  "  Sir,  I  was  interrupted  by 
a  new  speaker — was  he  a  member  from  Barkshire  f — 
(Berkshire),  but  as  his  argument  is  concluded  I  will 
resume  mine.*"  Afresh  burst  of  laughter  followed  this 
allusion,  and  then  the  house  gave  him  their  undivided 
attention. 

Daniel  O'Connell  was  once  addressing  a  large  polit- 
ical meeting,  which  was  held  in  Covent  Garden  Thea- 
tre, in  London.  There  was  a  disturbance  occasioned 
by  the  obstinacy  of  a  man  who  persisted  in  standing 
up  in  the  pit.  "  Sit  down,17  and  "Put  him  out,*"  were 
shouted  from  all  parts  of  the  house,  but  the  fellow  was 
determined  to  stand.  The  police  interfered,  but  they 
did  not  succeed  in  quieting  the  disorder.  At  last  the 
great  orator  waved  his  hand  for  silence,  and  then  said, 
"  Pray,  let  the  worthy  gentleman  have  his  way;  he's  a 
tailor  and  wants  to  rest  himself."  The  obstinate  man 
sat  down  immediately,  amid  thunders  of  applause  from 
every  portion  of  the  vast  assembly.  The  want  of  tact 
in  such  an  emergency  would  have  allowed  the  meeting 
2 


18 


TACT. 


to  be  turned  to  an  uncontrollable  mob,  to  the  disgrace 
and  mortification  of  all  connected  with  it;  but,  with 
tact,  the  disorder  became  a  huge  wave  which  bore  the 
orator  to  greater  heights  of  popularity,  and  made  him 
more  completely  the  idol  of  the  people. 

An  old  Scotch  clergyman,  when  he  came  to  a  text 
too  wonderful  for  him  to  comprehend  or  explain,  instead 
of  attempting  to  convince  his  hearers  by  a  formidable 
array  of  words  that  he  was  master  of  its  meaning, 
would  say,  "  Brethren,  this  is  a  difficult  text,  a  very 
difficult  text,  but  do  not  let  us  be  discouraged  by  it. 
Let  us  look  the  difficulty  boldly  in  the  face,  and  pass 
on"  And  so  tact  will  crumble  the  stumbling  stones 
and  smooth  down  the  obstacles  in  any  of  the  walks  of 
life,  and  although  it  may  not  have  the  brilliancy  of 
genius,  yet  in  its  practical  adaptation  to  all  circum- 
stances, it  has  an  imperial  power  to  lead  its  possessor 
to  the  grandest  success.  Bacon  has  said,  "  More  men 
advance  by  the  lesser  arts  of  discretion  than  by  the 
greater  adornments  of  wit  and  science,"  and  doubtless 
the  great  philosopher  meant  by  discretion  that  invalua- 
ble tact  which  can  always  perceive  in  any  emergency 
how  to  do  the  right  thing  in  the  right  way. 


0}a^b  I^bady  for  Opportunity. 


HAKESPEARE,  that    "  myriad-minded 


bard,"  whose  profound  knowledge  of  human 
r^^t  nature  and  marvelous  perception  of  the 
phases  and  incidents  of  daily  life  have  made 
his  immortal  works  a  store-house  of  wisdom,  has  truly 
said:  ' '  There  is  a  tide  in  the  affairs  of  men,  which, 
taken  at  the  flood,  leads  on  to  fortune."  What  man 
who  has  arrived  at  maturity  does  not  sometimes  sadly 
look  back  over  the  departed  years,  and  mark  the 
many  opportunities,  rich  and  golden,  which  presented 
themselves  to  him,  but  which  he  let  pass  beyond  his 
grasp  forever,  because  he  was  not  ready  to  seize  them! 

Here  is  the  difference  between  success  and  failure  in 
life;  the  successful  man  is  ready  to  be  borne  onward 
by  the  tide  of  opportune  circumstances, — ready  for  vic- 
tories when  good  fortune  consents  to  be  his  ally  and 
standard  bearer. 

One  great  secret  of  success  in  life  is  to  make  ready 
for  opportunity,  so  that  when  new  preferment  and  re- 
sponsibilities come  to  us,  we  may  be  able  to  accept 
them,  and  perform  the  duties  they  bring,  without 
abusing  the  trust  reposed  in  us.  How  many  spend 
their  lives  groveling  in  the  mire  of  conscious  in- 
feriority, because  they  have  utterly  failed  to  take  ad- 
vantage of  favorable  opportunities.    The  merchant  has 

*9 


20 


MAKE  READY  FOR  OPPORTUNITY. 


a  new  and  important  channel  of  trade  opened  to  him, 
but  his  finances  are  so  disordered,  or  his  experience 
and  knowledge  of  his  business  so  limited,  that  he  can- 
not secure  the  prize,  and  it  passes  into  the  hands  of  his 
shrewd  and  enterprising  rival.  The  physician,  strug- 
gling to  obtain  a  foothold  in  the  community,  is  finally 
called  in  an  important  and  critical  emergency.  Had  he 
been  capable,  and  ready  to  treat  the  case  successfully, 
it  would  have  established  his  reputation,  and  been  a 
stepping-stone  to  a  lucrative  practice  and  a  handsome 
competence;  but,  instead  of  this,  the  complications  and 
requirements  of  the  case  far  exceeded  his  ability  to 
master  them,  and  the  very  event  which  should  have 
been  an  occasion  of  victory,  proved  a  very  Waterloo 
of  defeat.  The  young  lawyer,  after  waiting  patiently 
for  an  opportunity  to  prove  to  his  acquaintances  his 
professional  skill,  at  length  is  called  to  an  important 
case.  If  he  comes  thoroughly  prepared, — his  mind 
sharpened  and  disciplined  by  years  of  careful  prepar- 
atory training, — freighted  with  the  principles  and  prec- 
edents which  are  applicable  to  the  questions  at  issue, 
and  ready  to  seize  upon  the  vital  and  salient  points  in 
the  case,  how  skillfully  he  makes  this  trial  of  his  skill  a 
sword  with  which  to  win  fresh  victories  in  his  profes- 
sional arena.  But  if  the  occasion  finds  him  unready,  not 
all  the  mortification  and  regret  that  will  haunt  his  mem- 
ory like  a  spectre  of  evil,  will  ever  atone  for  the  defeat, 
or  bring  back  the  golden  opportunity  forever  lost. 
One  of  the  brightest  names  in  the  annals  of  jnns- 


MAKE  READY  FOR  OPPORTUNITY. 


21 


prudence  was  Lord  Mansfield,  who  raised  himself 
from  the  quarter-deck  of  a  man-of-war  to  the  exalted 
position  of  Lord  Chancellor  of  England.  When  a 
young  man,  just  admitted  to  the  bar,  and  having  de- 
pendent upon  him  a  young  family,  he  was  waiting  in 
poverty  for  patronage,  and  eagerly  looking  for  some 
opportunity  to  show  that  he  was  ready  for  clients,  and 
deserved  them.  At  length,  as  with  most  men,  his  op- 
portunity came.  He  was  invited  to  a  supper,  at  which 
there  was  an  old  sea  captain  who  had  an  important 
case  on  hand.  During  the  evening,  the  merits  of  the 
case  became  the  subject  for  discussion,  and  young 
Mansfield  threw  himself  into  the  debate,  and  displayed 
such  a  warmth  of  eloquence,  and  such  a  conception  of 
the  principles  applicable  to  the  facts,  that  before  they 
separated  Mansfield  had  found  a  client  and  was  en- 
trusted with  the  suit.  When  the  case  came  to  trial 
and  Mansfield  got  on  his  feet  to  make  his  argument, 
he  showed  that  he  had  mastered  the  case  in  all  its 
bearings.  He  made  a  magnificent  plea,  and  astonished 
the  court,  his  client  and  all  the  barristers  present  by 
his  wonderful  forensic  ability.  From  that  time  he  be- 
came known  as  one  of  the  foremost  lawyers  of  his  age, 
and  honors  and  wealth  poured  in  upon  him. 

And  so  there  comes  a  time  in  the  life  of  every  man 
when  a  brilliant  opportunity  is  within  his  reach  if  he 
is  but  ready  for  it.  If  not  ready,  it  passes  from  his 
sight  forever,  and  leaves  him  but  a  stinging  recollec- 
tion of  what  he  has  lost. 


Enthusiasm. 


Y  enthusiasm  we  do  not  mean,  as  Warbur- 
ton  defined  it,  "a  temper  of  mind  in  which  the 
imagination  has  got  the  better  of  the  judg- 
ment," but  rather  an  intense  earnestness  to 
carry  forward  the  chosen  work  and  purpose  of  life. 
An  excellent  illustration  of  this  has  been  given  by  a 
talented  writer  in  an  anecdote  he  relates  of  a  promising 
college  student,  who  many  years  ago  made  a  visit, 
during  his  vacation,  to  the  house  of  a  Col.  Loring,  in 
Virginia.  He  proceeds  to  say  that  the  young  guest, 
who  had  a  powerful  intellect  and  whose  morals  and 
manners  were  irreproachable,  became  a  favorite  with 
the  master  of  the  house,  Col.  Loring,  then  nearly 
eighty  years  of  age.  One  evening,  seated  around  the 
fire,  the  New  Englander  was  moved  to  an  unwonted 
confidence. 

"Can  you  tell  me,  Col.  Loring,"  he  said,  in  his  calm 
monotone,  "why  I  am  unpopular  in  eollege?  I  rank 
high  in  my  classes.  I  think  my  motives  are  pure.  I 
am  never  knowingly  guilty  of  a  vice  or  a  rudeness.  Yet 
men  with  half  my  ability  can  carry  the  college  with 
them  in  any  measure,  while  I  am  barely  tolerated  by 
the  students,  and  am  an  object  of  perfect  indifference 
to  the  professors." 

22 


ENTHUSIASM. 


23 


Col.  Loring  skillfully  evaded  the  question,  being  too 
courteous  to  reply  frankly,  but  his  eye  fell  upon  the 
lire,  which  was  well  built,  but  covered  with  gray 
ashes. 

kkStir  the  fire,  Neddy,  stir  the  Are!"  he  said. 

The  young  visitor,  a  little  surprised  at  the  unusual 
request,  took  the  poker  and  raked  the  coals,  letting  the 
air  freely  circulate.  The  flames  broke  out,  and  the 
heat  became  so  intense  that  they  all  drew  back. 

"It  is  always  a  good  plan  to  let  the  Are  burn."  said 
the  colonel,  quietly.  The  young  man  shot  a  keen 
glance  of  comprehension  at  him,  but  said  nothing. 

"  Neddy  became  in  his  middle  as:e  one  of  the  fore- 
most  figures  in  New  England,"  his  old  friend  would 
say  in  ending  the  story.  kk  He  was  a  scholar,  a  states- 
man, and  an  orator.  All  the  people  admired  and  were 
proud  of  him.  Yet  I  doubt  if  he  ever  carried  a  meas- 
ure in  Congress,  or  persuaded  a  single  man  ever  to 
change  his  opinion  or  his  course. 

"I  saw  him  at  the  age  of  sixty,  delivering  an  oration 
which  he  had  repeated  over  a  hundred  times.  It  was 
faultless  in  logic  and  in  rhetoric.  But  it  had  no  more 
effect  upon  his  hearers  than  the  recital  of  the  Greek 
alphabet.  I  felt  like  calling  out  to  him  'Stir  the  fire, 
Neddy,  stir  the  Are/" 

A  thoughtful  essayist  has  remarked  :  "Like  all  the 
virtues,  earnestness  is  sometimes  a  natural  trait,  and 
sometimes  one  acquired  by  the  healthy  graft  of  moral 
and  religious  principle.    It  is  a  positive  essential  in  the 


24 


ENTHUSIASM. 


structure  of  character;  it  is  one  of  the  main  instru- 
ments in  all  action  that  is  to  benefit  others.  It  gives 
persistency  to  the  unstable,  strength  to  the  feeble, 
ability  and  skill  to  the  inefficient,  and  success  to  all 
endeavor.  There  is  a  might  in  it  that  is  magical  to  the 
vacillating  and  irresolute.  Its  possessors  are  those 
who  stood  in  the  front  ranks  of  life  from  the  school- 
room to  the  forum;  from  the  child  with  its  first 
"reward  of  merit,"  to  the  matron  who  presides  over 
the  well-ordered  household,  and  gives  her  blessing  to 
well-trained  sons  and  daughters,  as  they  leave  their 
mother's  home  for  lives  of  usefulness  in  wider  spheres. 

Earnestness,  also,  like  other  noble  qualities,  is 
always  making  greater  gains  than  it  aims  at.  There 
is  not  only  the  purpose  accomplished,  but  the  strength, 
the  skill,  and  the  distance  already  overcome,  that  will 
make  the  next  aim  loftier,  and  more  arduous  in  its 
accomplishment.  Thus  there  is,  naturally  and  neces- 
sarily, the  attainment  of  fresh  and  more  inspiring  ele- 
vation. The  prospect  widens,  the  objects  to  be 
achieved  multiply  in  number  and  importance,  the  con- 
sciousness of  the  one  performance  brightens  the  eye, 
and  steadies  the  hand,  and  insures  the  uncertain  step, 
till  success  is  gained  again." 

Said  a  critic  of  Landseer,  the  famous  animal  painter, 
"  He  seems  to  become  the  animal  he  is  painting, — to 
intermingle  his  soul  for  a  season  with  that  of  the  stag, 
the  horse,  or  the  blood-hound." 

It  is  suggestive  to  notice  how  those  who  have 


ENTHUSIASM. 


2-5 


attained  great  success  in  any  department  of  human 
effort,  have  been  enthusiastic  in  their  calling. 

This  story  is  told  of  Oken,  the  famous  German 
naturalist : 

"  He  had  a  small  income,  but  an  intense  zeal  for 
scientific  discovery.  He  could  not  surround  himself 
with  the  comforts  of  life,  and  at  the  same  time  obtain 
the  books  and  instruments  needed  for  his  scientific  re- 
searches. He  did  not  hesitate  a  moment  in  his  choice; 
but,  practicing  the  strictest  economy  in  furniture,  and 
clothing,  and  food,  spent  freely  for  scientific  objects. 

u  An  American  friend  was  once  invited  to  dinner,  and, 
to  his  surprise,  found  on  the  table  neither  meat  nor 
pudding,  but  only  baked  potatoes.  Oken  himself  was 
too  proud  to  make  any  explanation;  but  his  wife,  being 
more  humble  and  less  reticent,  apologized  to  the  visi- 
tor for  the  scantily-spread  table.  Her  husband,  she 
said,  was  obliged  to  give  up  either  science  or  luxurious 
living,  and  he  had  chosen  to  surrender  the  latter.  On 
three  days  of  the  week,  she  added,  they  lived  on 
potatoes  and  salt,  and  though  at  first  it  seemed  like 
scanty  fare,  they  had  come  to  enjoy  it,  and  to  be  per- 
fectly content  with  it.'' 

Beecher  remarks  that  the  mind  will  not  work  to  its 
average  capacity — much  less  to  its  highest — without 
excitement,  and  Bulwer  Lytton,  the  novelist,  has  left 
this  eloquent  passage  to  the  same  effect:  "Nothing 
is  so  contagious  as  enthusiasm;  it  is  the  real  allegory 
of  the  lute  of  Orpheus;  it  moves  stones;  it  charms 


26 


ENTHUSIASM. 


brutes.  Enthusiasm  is  the  genius  of  sincerity,  and 
truth  accomplishes  no  victories  without  it.' 7 

Said  the  sturdy  and  fearless  Luther:  "  If  I  wish  to 
compose,  write,  pray,  or  preach  well,  I  must  be  angry. 
Then  all  the  blood  of  my  veins  is  stirred;  my  under- 
standing is  sharpened,  and  all  dismal  thought  and 
temptations  are  dissipated." 

When  Charles  James  Fox  was  making  one  of  his 
magnificent  speeches  in  favor  of  the  abolition  of  the 
slave  trade,  he  was  charged  with  betraying  an  incon- 
siderate degree  of  enthusiasm.  He  turned  his  blazing 
eyes  upon  the  speaker,  and  said:  "  Enthusiasm,  sir! 
why  there  was  never  any  good  done  in  the  world 
without  enthusiasm.  We  must  feel  warm  upon  our 
projects,  otherwise  from  the  discouragements  we  are 
sure  to  meet  with  here,  they  will  drop  through.1'  And 
it  was  the  steady  enthusiasm  of  him  and  a  little  band 
of  kindred  spirits,  that,  like  a  consuming  fire,  swept  all 
opposition  before  it,  and  brought  about  the  great  vic- 
tory of  emancipation.  Charles  Dickens  said  that  there 
is  no  substitute  for  thorough-going,  ardent  earnestness, 
and  William  Wirt  gives  this  advice  to  the  young: 
"  Seize  the  moment  of  excited  curiosity  on  any  subject  to 
solve  your  doubts;  for  if  you  let  it  pass,  the  desire  may 
never  return,  and  you  may  remain  in  ignorance.1* 

With  a  laudable  purpose,  enthusiasm,  guided  by 
practical  good  sense,  and  sustained  by  tireless  in- 
dustry and  perseverance,  will  lead  to  the  highest 
round  in  the  ladder  of  success. 


I^EIiY  ON  y0Ur?SELP. 


HE  eagle  when  teaching  her  young  to  fly,  as 
they  sit  on  the  edge  of  the  nest,  fearful  to 
venture  into  the  abyss  below,  forces  them 
from  the  home  that  has  sheltered  them  so 
long,  and  so  compels  them  to  use  their  weak  and 
untried  wings,  and  soon  comes  strength  and  courage 
for  the  lofty  and  prolonged  flight.  Well  were  it  for 
parents  if  they  would  show  as  much  wisdom  in  the  ed- 
ucation of  their  children,  and  early  train  them  to  rely 
on  their  own  unaided  powers. 

Nothing  better  could  happen  to  the  young  man  who 
has  the  right  kind  of  grit,  than  to  be  thrown  on  the 
world  and  his  own  resources.  A  well-to-do  judge  once 
gave  his  son  a  thousand  dollars,  and  told  him  to  go  to 
college  and  graduate.  The  son  returned  at  the  end  jf 
the  Freshman  year,  his  money  all  gone  and  with  sev- 
eral extravagant  habits.  At  the  close  of  the  vaca- 
tion the  judge  said  to  his  son,  "Well,  William,  are  you 
going  to  college  this  year?"  "  Have  no  money, 
father."  "But  I  gave  you  a  thousand  dollars  to  grad 
uate  on."  "It  is  all  gone,  father."  "Very  well,  my 
son;  it  was  all  I  could  give  you;  you  can't  stay  here; 

you  must  now  pay  your  own  way  in  the  world."  A 

27 


28  RELY  ON  YOURSELF. 

new  light  broke  in  upon  the  vision  of  the  young  man. 
He  accommodated  himself  to  the  situation;  again  left 
home,  made  his  way  through  college,  graduated  at  the 
head  of  his  class,  studied  law,  became  Governor  of  the 
State  of  New  York,  entered  the  Cabinet  of  the  Presi- 
dent of  the  United  States,  and  has  made  a  record  that 
will  not  soon  die,  for  he  was  none  other  than  William 
H.  Seward. 

Daniel  Webster,  about  four  years  before  his  death, 
wrote  in  a  letter  to  his  grandson  what  every  student 
and  young  person  should  remember:  "You  cannot 
learn  without  your  own  efforts.  All  the  teachers  in 
the  world  can  never  make  a  scholar  of  you,  if  you  do 
not  apply  yourself  with  all  your  might." 

If  we  study  the  lives  of  great  men,  we  shall  find  that 
many  of  them  were  obliged  to  toil  unremittingly  in 
early  life,  and  were  unable  to  go  to  college,  or  even 
avail  themselves  of  any  educational  advantages,  except 
that  which  came  to  them  from  diligent  application  to 
books  during  odd  moments  of  leisure,  and  that  almost 
invariably  at  some  period  of  their  career  they  had  to 
face  the  battle  of  life  alone,  and  the  strength  of  mind 
and  character  which  were  thus  developed  made  them 
great  and  successful.  Truly  did  they  find  that 
"Heaven  helps  him  who  helps  himself." 

The  men  who  have  become  rich  are  seldom  those 
who  started  in  business  with  capital,  but  those  who 
had  nothing  to  begin  with  but  their  strong  arms  and 
active  brains.     "A  man's  best  friends  are  his  ten 


RELY  ON  YOURSELF.  2g 

fingers,"  says  that  sturdy  thinker,  Robert  Collyer,  and 
"  Poor  Richard  "  expressed  the  same  truth  when  he 
said :  u  He  that  by  the  plow  would  thrive,  himself  must 
either  hold  or  drive.11  The  men  who  have  always  been 
bolstered  up  and  assisted  never  amount  to  anything  in  a 
time  of  emergency;  but  will  look  about  for  some  one 
to  lean  upon,  and  if  no  one  comes  to  their  rescue,  down 
they  go,  out  of  sight.  Whatever  maybe  your  calling, 
learn  to  depend  on  yourself.  Fight  your  own  battles, 
and  you  will  probably  win. 

You  are  only  sure  of  that  being  well  done  which 
you  do  yourself.  If  you  trust  to  others  you  will  most 
surely  be  perplexed  and  disappointed.  If  you  ever 
mean  to  do  anything  in  this  world,  you  must  take  off 
your  coat,  set  your  face  like  a  flint  toward  the  accom- 
plishment of  your  purpose,  and  never  give  up  until  the 
victory  is  yours. 

"In  battle  or  business  whatever  the  game  — 
In  law3  or  in  love,  it  is  ever  the  same; 
In  the  struggle  for  power,  or  scramble  for  pelf, 
Let  this  be  your  motto,  "  Rely  on  yourself." 
For  whether  the  prize  be  a  ribbon  or  throne, 
The  victor  is  he  who  can  go  it  alone." 

— Saxe. 


N  artist  once  picked  up  the  scattered  pieces 
of  glass  after  a  large  stained  window  had 
been  constructed,  and  with  the  fragments 
he  made  one  of  the  most  exquisite  windows 
of  a  great  cathedral  in  Europe.  So  should  we  use  the 
fragments  of  time  that  are  scattered  through  our  lives. 
Moments  are  like  grains  of  gold.  It  is  said  that  the 
gold-room  of  the  United  States  mint  has  double  floors, 
the  upper  of  which  acts  as  a  sieve,  while  the  lower  one 
catches  the  minute  particles  of  precious  dust  which 
sift  through,  and  that,  by  this  contrivance,  about  thirty 
thousand  dollars'  worth  of  gold  is  saved  every  year. 
We  need  some  such  method  to  save  the  priceless  but 
easily  wasted  moments  of  our  lives.  Said  Napoleon 
to  the  pupils  of  a  military  school,  "  Remember  that 
every  lost  moment  is  a  chance  for  future  misfortune." 

The  results  accomplished  by  improving  these  spare 
moments  are  quite  as  surprising  as  are  the  accumula- 
tions of  gold  dust  at  the  mint.  Dr.  Schlieman,  the  Ger- 
man explorer  of  the  ruins  of  Troy,  began  the  study  of 
languages  after  arriving  at  manhood,  and  in  the  midst 
of  an  active  business.  He  says:  "  I  never  went  on  an 
errand,  even  in  the  rain,  without  having  my  book  in 
my  hand,  and  learning  something  by  heart;  and  I 


WHAT  MINUTES  ARE  WORTH. 


31 


never  waited  at  the  postoffice  without  reading."  By 
thus  improving  these  odd  moments  in  this  way,  he  ac- 
quired a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  English  and 
French  languages  in  six  months.  By  means  of  the  aid 
and  discipline  acquired  in  mastering  these  two  lan- 
guages, he  was  able  to  write  and  speak  fluently,  Dutch, 
Italian,  Spanish  and  Portuguese  by  six  weeks'  study 
of  each.  Elihu  Burritt,  who  was  called  the  "  learned 
blacksmith,*"  was  a  wonderful  instance  of  what  can  be 
accomplished  by  improving  the  smallest  fragments  of 
time.  While  working  at  the  bellows,  he  had  his  book 
fastened  where  his  eye  could  rest  upon  it  for  an  instant, 
and  in  this  way  began  the  study  of  languages,  and  be- 
came one  of  the  most  eminent  linguists  of  his  day. 

Some  one  has  remarked,  "  It  was  a  maxim  of  the 
Latins  that  no  one  reached  the  summit  of  honor,  unless 
he  prudently  used  his  time.1'  This  has  been  the  secret 
of  nearly  all  who  have  been  noted  for  extraordinary 
ability,  and  have  attained  wonderful  results. 

The  picture  of  a  man  with  hat  and  coat  off,  work- 
ing at  the  base  of  a  mountain,  while  above  him  is  the 
motto,  u  Little  by  little,"  suggests  an  important  truth. 

When  Prof.  Tyndall  was  a  young  man,  he  was  in 
the  government  service,  and  although  faithful  in  the 
performance  of  his  duties,  yet  had  no  definite  aim  in 
life.  One  day  one  of  the  officials  asked  him  how  his 
leisure  hours  were  employed,  saying:  "  You  have  five 
hours  a  day  at  your  disposal,  and  this  ought  to  be  de- 
voted to  systematic  study.    Had  I,  when  at  your  age, 


32 


WHAT  MINUTES  ARE  WORTH. 


had  a  friend  to  advise  me  as  I  now  advise  you,  instead 
of  being  in  a  subordinate  position,  I  might  have  been 
at  the  head  of  my  department."  This  good  advice 
fell  upon  willing  ears,  for  next  day  young  Tyndall  be- 
gan a  regular  course  of  study.  About  seven  years 
after,  desiring  a  more  thorough  education,  he  attended 
a  German  university,  and  in  a  speech  made  at  a  ban- 
quet in  New  York  he  thus  referred  to  his  student  life, 
and  how  he  improved  his  time,  and  thus  acquired  the 
habits  and  discipline  by  which  he  became  one  of  the 
foremost  scientific  men  of  Europe.  He  said:  "  In 
1848,  wishing  to  improve  myself  in  science,  I  went  to 
the  University  of  Marburg,  the  same  old  town  in 
which  my  great  namesake,  when  even  poorer  than 
myself,  published  his  translation  of  the  Bible,  I  lodged 
in  the  plainest  manner,  in  a  street  which  perhaps  bore 
an  appropriate  name  while  I  dwelt  upon  it.  It  was 
called  the  Ketzerbach — the  heretic's  brook — from  a 
little  historic  rivulet  running  through  it.  I  wished  to 
keep  myself  clean  and  hardy,  so  I  purchased  a  cask 
and  had  it  cut  in  two  by  a  carpenter.  Half  that  cask 
filled  with  spring  water  over  night,  was  placed  in  my 
small  bed-room,  and  never,  during  the  years  that  I 
spent  there,  in  winter  or  in  summer,  did  the  clock  of 
the  beautiful  Elizabethe-kirch,  which  was  close  at  hand, 
finish  striking  the  hour  of  six  in  the  morning,  before  I 
was  in  my  tub.  For  a  good  portion  of  the  time  I  rose 
an  hour  and  a  half  earlier  than  this,  working  by  lamp- 
light at  the  differential  calculus,  when  the  world  was 


WHAT  MINUTES  ARE  WORTH. 


33 


slumbering  around  me.  And  I  risked  this  breach  in 
my  pursuits,  and  this  expenditure  of  time  and  money, 
not  because  I  had  any  definite  prospect  of  material 
profit  in  view,  but  because  I  thought  the  cultivation  of 
the  intellect  important;  because,  moreover,  I  loved 
my  work,  and  entertained  the  sure  and  certain  hope 
that,  armed  with  knowledge,  one  can  successfully  fight 
one's  way  through  the  world.1'' 

A  sensible  writer  has  made  this  observation:  "  The 
true  economy  of  human  life  looks  at  ends  rather  than 
incidents,  and  adjusts  expenditures  to  a  moral  scale  of 
values.  De  Quincey  pictures  a  woman  sailing  over 
the  water,  awakening  out  of  sleep  to  find  her  necklace 
untied  and  one  end  hanging  over  the  stream,  while 
pearl  after  pearl  drops  from  the  string  beyond  her 
reach;  while  she  clutches  at  one  just  falling,  another 
drops  beyond  recovery.  Our  days  drop  one  after  an- 
other by  our  carelessness,  like  pearls  from  a  string,  as 
we  sail  the  sea  of  life.  Prudence  requires  a  wise  hus- 
banding of  time  to  see  that  none  of  these  golden  coins 
are  spent  for  nothing.  The  waste  of  time  is  a  more 
serious  loss  than  the  extravagances  against  which 
there  is  such  loud  acclaim.1' 

A  lady  who  had  the  care  of  a  large  household,  and 
yet  found  time  to  engage  in  many  works  of  charity, 
was  asked  how  she  was  able  to  do  so  much.  She  re- 
plied: "  I  never  lose  sight  of  the  odd  minutes.  I  have 
so  much  to  do  that  there  is  always  something  I  can 
turn  to  if  I  have  a  minute  to  spare.'1 

3 


34  WHAT  MINUTES  ARE  WORTH. 

It  is  surprising  how  much  can  be  accomplished  by 
making  good  use  of  the  early  morning  hours.  It  is  re- 
lated of  Buffon,  the  celebrated  naturalist,  that  he  was 
always  up  with  the  sun,  and  he  tells  us  in  what  way 
he  gained  the  habit.  "  In  my  youth,"  said  he,  "I  was 
very  fond  of  sleep;  it  robbed  me  of  a  great  deal  of  my 
time;  but  my  poor  Joseph  (his  domestic)  was  of  great 
service  in  enabling  me  to  overcome  it.  I  promised  to 
give  Joseph  a  crown  every  time  he  could  make  me  get 
up  at  six.  The  next  morning  he  did  not  fail  to  awake 
and  torment  me;  but  he  received  only  abuse.  The 
day  after  he  did  the  same,  with  no  better  success,  and 
I  was  obliged  at  noon  to  confess  that  I  had  lost  my 
time.  I  told  him  that  he  did  not  know  how  to  man- 
age his  business;  that  he  ought  to  think  of  my  pro- 
mise, and  not  of  my  threats.  The  day  following  he 
emplo}^ed  force;  I  begged  for  indulgence,  I  bade  him 
begone;  I  stormed,  but  Joseph  persisted.  I  was,  there- 
fore, obliged  to  comply,  and  he  was  rewarded  every 
day  for  the  abuse  which  he  suffered  at  the  moment 
when  I  awoke,  by  thanks,  accompanied  with  a  crown, 
which  he  received  about  an  hour  after.  Yes,  I  am  in- 
debted to  poor  Joseph  for  ten  or  a  dozen  volumes  of 
of  my  work." 

Sir  Walter  Scott  thus  alludes  to  the  freshness  of  his 
mind  at  the  opening  of  the  day,  and  the  manner  that 
he  took  advantage  of  it  in  his  prodigious  literary  la- 
bors. He  wrote  in  his  diary:  "  When  I  had  in 
former  times  to  fill  up  a  passage  in  a  poem,  it  was  al- 


WHAT  MINUTES  ARE  WORTH. 


35 


ways  when  I  first  opened  my  eyes  that  the  desired 
ideas  thronged  upon  me.  I  am  in  the  habit  of  relying 
upon  it,  and  saying  to  myself  when  I  am  at  a  loss, 
'  Never  mind,  we  shall  have  it  all  at  seven  o'clock  to- 
morrow morning. '  "  When  asked  what  was  the  secret 
of  the  marvelous  fertility  of  his  pen,  he  said:  "  I  have 
always  made  it  a  rule  never  to  be  doing  nothing." 

Milton  rose  at  four  in  the  winter,  and  five  in  the  sum- 
mer, or  if  not  disposed  to  rise,  in  later  years,  had  some 
one  to  sit  at  his  bedside  and  read  to  him,  and  his  wife 
said  that  often  before  rising  he  would  dictate  twenty 
or  thirty  verses  to  her.  Some  one  says :  "  One  hour 
lost  in  the  morning  will  put  back  all  the  business  of 
the  day;  one  hour  gained  by  rising  early  will  make 
one  month  in  the  year.*" 

One  of  the  greatest  hindrances  to  making  use  of 
spare  moments  is  the  tendency  to  dally,  and  to  put  off 
to  another  time  what  should  be  done  at  once.  There 
is  no  time  for  indecision,  for  while  we  are  considering 
and  hesitating  the  moment  is  gone. 

A  forcible  writer  has  aptly  said:  "  There  is  no  mo- 
ment like  the  present;  not  only  so,  but  there  is  no 
moment  at  all;  that  is,  no  instant  force  and  energy, 
but  in  the  present.  The  man  who  will  not  execute  his 
resolutions  when  they  are  fresh  upon  him,  can  have  no 
hope  from  them  afterwards;  they  will  be  dissipated, 
lost,  and  perish  in  the  hurry  and  skurry  of  the  world, 
or  sink  in  the  slough  of  indolence." 

Alexander  the  Great,  on  being  asked  how  he  had 


36 


WHAT  MINUTES  ARE  WORTH. 


conquered  the  world  replied,  "  By  not  delaying."  And 
so  with  us,  if  we  are  to  conquer  difficulties  there 
must  be  promptitude  of  action.  There  must  be  also 
a  plan  or  system  of  work,  if  much  is  to  be  accomplished. 
A  few  moments  given  one  day  to  one  thing,  and  the 
next  day  to  something  else,  will  merely  fritter  away 
the  time  and  scatter  our  energies.  The  value  of  a 
plan  of  systematic  reading  or  study  cannot  be  estimated 
too  highly.  Says  Hamberton:  "  Nothing  wastes  time 
like  miscalculation.  It  negatives  all  results.  It  is  the 
parent  of  incompleteness,  the  great  author  of  the  un- 
finished and  the  unserviceable."  These  inspiring 
words  to  young  men  apply  to  all  who  are  striving  to 
reach  a  higher  goal. 

"  Wishing  and  sighing,  imagining  and  dreaming  of 
greatness,"  said  William  Wirt,  "will  not  make  you 
great.  But  cannot  a  young  man  command  his  energies? 
Read  Foster  on  decision  of  character.  This  book  will 
tell  you  what  is  in  your  power  to  accomplish.  You 
must  gird  up  your  loins  and  go  to  work  with  the  in- 
domitable energy  of  Napoleon  scaling  the  Alps.  It  is 
your  duty  to  make  the  most  of  time,  talents  and  op- 
portunity. 

"Alfred,  King  of  England,  though  he  performed 
more  business  than  any  of  his  subjects,  found  time  to 
study. 

"  Franklin,  in  the  midst  of  his  labors,  had  time  to 
dive  into  the  depths  of  philosophy,  and  explore  an  un- 
trodden path  of  science. 


WHAT  MINUTES  ARE  WORTH. 


37 


"  Frederick  the  Great,  with  an  empire  at  his  direc- 
tion, in  the  midst  of  war,  and  on  the  eve  of  battle, 
found  time  to  revel  in  the  charms  of  philosophy,  and 
feast  on  the  luxury  of  science. 

"  Napoleon,  with  Europe  at  his  disposal,  with  kings 
in  his  ante-chamber,  at  the  head  of  thousands  of  men, 
whose  destinies  were  suspended  on  arbitrary  pleasure, 
found  time  to  converse  with  books. 

"And  young  men,  who  are  confined  to  labor  or  busi- 
ness, even  twelve  hours  a  day,  may  take  an  hour  and  a 
half  of  what  is  left,  for  study,  and  this  will  amount  to 
two  months  in  the  course  of  the  year." 

What  might  not  be  accomplished  in  the  long  winter 
evenings  and  early  summer  mornings,  in  the  course  of 
five  or  ten  years,  were  some  high  purpose  formed  and 
followed,  which  would  spur  the  mental  powers  to  their 
utmost  endeavor,  and  inspire  the  soul  with  high  re- 
solves. Thousands  of  dissatisfied  lives  will  bear  testi- 
mony to  these  words  of  a  modern,  talented  writer: 
"  There  are  few  people  who  have  not  discovered  how 
difficult  it  is  to  secure  time  for  any  pursuit  over  and 
above  that  required  for  the  daily  business  of  life.  For 
instance,  one 'has  an  ambition  to  excel  in  an  accom- 
plishment, or  to  acquire  a  language,  or  one's  tastes  lie 
in  the  direction  of  geology  or  mineralogy.  The  hours 
which  can  be  found  and  devoted  without  interruption 
to  these  cherished  things  are  few,  so  few  that  often  the 
plans  are  laid  aside,  and  the  attainments  regarded  as 
completely  beyond  the  reach  of  the  busy  man  or 


38 


WHAT  MINUTES  ARE  WORTH. 


woman.  The  demands  of  a  profession,  the  cares  of  a 
household,  the  claims  of  society,  and  the  duties  of  re 
ligion,  so  occupy  every  moment  of  every  day,  that  it 
seems  idle  to  try  to  keep  up  the  studies  which  once 
were  a  joy  and  delight.  If  men  and  women  would  de- 
termine to  do  what  they  can  with  their  bits  of  time,  to 
learn  what  they  can  in  the  fragments  and  uninter- 
rupted portions  of  days,  which  they  can  alone  be  sure 
of,  they  would  be  surprised  at  the  end  of  a  season,  or  at 
the  end  of  a  year,  to  find  how  much  they  had  accom- 
plished. It  is  better  to  read  one  good,  strong  book 
through  in  the  winter,  than  to  read  nothing  but  the 
newspaper,  and  perhaps  not  that.  A  half  hour  daily 
devoted  to  any  book,  any  art,  or  any  esthetic  pursuit, 
would  be  sufficient  to  keep  it  in  the  possession  of  the 
mind,  and  to  give  thought  something  to  dwell  upon, 
outside  the  engrossing  and  dwarfing  cares  of  every 
day.  That  precious  half  hour  would  save  from  the 
narrowness  and  pettiness  which  are  inevitable  to  those 
whose  work  is  exclusively  given  to  the  materialities  of 
life.  It  would  tinge  and  color  the  day,  as  a  drop  of 
ruby  liquid  in  the  druggist's  globe  imparts  its  hue  to  a 
gallon  of  water.  A  feeling  of  discouragement  comes 
over  us  when  we  compare  ourselves  and  our  oppor- 
tunities with  those  of  some  living  men,  and  with  those 
of  some  who  have  gone,  but  whose  biographies  live. 
How  did  they  learn  so  much,  do  so  much,  fill  so  large 
a  space  in  the  story  of  their  times,  and  illustrate  so 
grandly  the  possibilities  of  humanity?    If  we  knew  all 


WHAT  MINUTES  ARE  WO  RTF 


39 


the  truth,  it  was  no  doubt  because  the  time  we  spend 
in  fruitless  effort,  and  in  doing  needless  things,  was 
steadily  given  by  them  to  the  things  which  count  up, 
and  make  large  sums  total  at  the  foot  of  life's  balance- 
sheet.  No  doubt,  too,  because  they  were  not  con- 
temptuous of  scattered  fragments  of  time,  which  they 
filled  with  honest  work,  and  which  paid  them  by  mak- 
ing their  work  easier  and  more  successful  in  the  end. 
If  we  could  make  up  our  minds  to  accept  the  situation 
in  which  Providence  has  placed  us,  and  then  to  do  the 
best  we  can  there,  without  repining,  we  might  yet 
evolve  some  lovely  creation  out  of  our  broken  days/' 
May  these  suggestive  words  inspire  you  carefully  to 
treasure  the  precious  moments  of  your  lives,  and  to 
heed  this  parting  admonition,  which,  if  followed,  will 
rill  life  with  a  new  measure  of  satisfaction,  and  crown 
it  with  glorious  achievements.  "  Try  what  you  can 
make  of  the  broken  fragments  of  time.  Glean  up  its 
golden  dust — those  raspings  and  parings  of  precious 
duration,  those  leavings  of  days  and  remnants  of  hours 
which  so  many  sweep  out  into  the  waste  of  existence. 
Perhaps,  if  you  be  a  miser  of  moments,  if  you  be  frugal, 
and  hoard  up  odd  minutes,  and  half  hours,  and  unex- 
pected holidays,  your  careful  gleanings  may  eke  out  a 
long  and  useful  life,  and  you  may  die  at  last,  richer  in 
existence  than  multitudes,  whose  time  is  all  their 
own." 


©he  I^ige  of  Success. 


EOPLE  generally  get  what  they  pay  for,  and 
usually  value  those  articles  the  most  which 
cost  them  the  highest  price,  and  the  greatest 
sacrifice  to  obtain.  There  may  be  now  and  then  a 
person  who  stumbles  on  success  by  accident,  as  a  man 
may  stumble  on  a  gold  mine,  but  these  instances  are 
exceptional,  and  seldom  happen.  Those  who  succeed 
in  any  special  department  of  human  action  are,  as  a 
rule,  those  who  carefully  plan  for  it,  expect  it,  and  are 
willing  to  pay  the  full  price  to  attain  it. 

Success  demands  to  be  bought  with  a  price;  it  is 
stern  and  unyielding  in  its  requirements,  inflexible  in 
its  terms,  and  exacts  the  uttermost  farthing.  It  costs 
application,  diligence,  self-sacrifice  and  enthusiasm; 
the  blandishments  of  pleasure  must  be  disregarded,  the 
allurements  of  fashionable  society  avoided,  the  quiet 
and  retirement  of  solitude  courted.  One  of  the  great- 
est thinkers  and  scholars  of  his  age  said,  "I  am  as 
much  cut  off  from  the  great  body  of  men  as  if  I 
belonged  to  a  band  of  pirates."  The  whirl  of  giddy 
pleasure,  the  sound  of  intoxicating  music,  the  meas- 
ures of  the  dance,  and  even  the  frequent  occasions  of 

social  festivities,  all  these  were  denied  him,  and  were 

40 


THE  PRICE  OF  SUCCESS.  4r 

dead  to  him.  For  him  was  the  silent  library,  the  in- 
tense concentration  of  continuous  thought,  the  attrition 
with  minds  like  his  own,  the  conflict  of  ideas;  and 
the  world  outside  was  to  him  as  nothing. 

A  political  leader  in  the  British  Parliament,  forty 
years  ago,  said,  "  During  the  week  which  followed  my 
taking  office,  I  did  not  close  my  eyes  for  anxiety.  I 
never  take  exercise  now.  From  my  getting  up  until 
four  o'clock,  I  am  engaged  in  the  business  of  my  office. 
At  four  I  dine,  go  down  to  the  House  at  five,  and 
never  stir  until  the  House  rises,  which  is  always  after 
midnight."  This  was  the  price  he  paid  for  his  great 
ness,  and  compared  with  such  a  life  of  intense  strain, 
the  toii  of  the  laborer  who  works  ten  hours  a  day  is 
mere  pastime.  And  yet  this  is  but  a  fair  example  of 
the  labor  performed  by  many  of  our  public  men,  which 
alas !  often  breaks  down  their  constitution  and  shortens 
their  days.    The  price  of  success  is  unremitting  toil. 

When  Edmund  Burke  was  making  one  of  his  won- 
derful speeches  in  Parliament,  one  of  his  brothers  was 
standing  by  and  said,  "I  always  thought  that  Ned  had 
all  the  brains  in  our  family,"  but  shortly  afterwards 
remarked,  "I  see  how  it  is,  while  we  were  sleeping 
and  playing,  he  was  working  and  studying.'"  It  is  said 
that  one  of  the  greatest  pieces  of  acting  was  by  the 
famous  Edmund  Kean  in  the  character  of  the  gentle- 
man villain.  Before  he  would  consent  to  appear  in 
the  character,  he  practiced  assiduously  before  the  glass, 
studying  expressions,  for  a  year  and  a  half.    Then  he 


42  THE  PRICE  OF  SUCCESS. 

said  he  was  ready,  and  when  he  came  on  the  stage, 
Byron,  who  with  Moore  was  there  to  hear  him,  said 
that  he  had  never  looked  upon  so  fearful  and  wicked 
a  countenance.  As  the  great  actor  proceeded  to  de- 
lineate the  terrible  consequences  of  sin,  Byron  swooned 
away,  and  before  the  play  was  over  the  audience  had 
fled  in  horror  from  the  fearful  spectacle.  That  long 
year  and  a  half  of  painstaking  preparation,  was  a 
costly  price  to  pay  for  success,  but  it  purchased  a  full 
measure  of  it. 

It  is  sad  to  note  that  success  is  often  attained  at  the 
expense  of  the  kindly  qualities  of  the  heart.  Many  a 
man  of  naturally  jovial  temperament  and  overflowing 
spirits,  becomes  by  a  continually  studious  and  solitary 
life  a  confirmed  recluse.  That  witty  yet  profound 
poet  and  philosopher,  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes,  has 
said,  "I  won't  say  the  more  intellect  the  less  capacity 
for  loving;  for  that  would  do  wrong  to  the  under- 
standing and  reason:  but,  on  the  other  hand,  that  the 
brain  often  runs  away  with  the  heart's  best  blood, 
which  gives  the  world  a  few  pages  of  wisdom,  or  sen- 
timent, or  poetry  instead  of  making  one  other  heart 
happy,  I  have  no  question."  This  sentiment  was  also 
well  expressed  by  one  of  our  eloquent  divines  when  he 
said,  "  All  the  great  intellectual  development  which  the 
world  has  ever  seen,  has  been  reached  at  the  cost  of  the 
heart.  When  the  intellect  weds  itself  fully  to  certain 
paths  of  study  and  toil,  the  heart  soon  sunders  the 
many  sweet  and  beautiful  associations  of  the  wide 


THE  PRICE  OF  SUCCESS. 


43 


world.  It  is  written  in  all  history  that  a  life  of  thought 
is  a  constant  warfare  against  a  life  of  sociability  and 
cheerfulness  and  love." 

The  biographer  of  that  brilliant  child  of  genius, 
Rufus  Choate,  says  that  although  he  was  "forever  in 
the  midst  of  his  clients  or  his  household,  yet  he  always 
seemed  lonely  and  solitary,"  and  though  he  was  pecul- 
iarly fitted  to  shine-in  society,  yet  he  became  averse  to  it. 

The  celebrated  naturalist,  Audubon,  cut  himself 
aloof  for  years  from  the  haunts  of  men,  and  plunged 
into  the  gloomy  depths  of  forests  and  swamps  for  the 
purpose  of  observing  the  habits  and  drawing  sketches 
of  American  birds,  but  the  result  was  that  he  gave  to  the 
world  the  most  comprehensive  work  in  this  department  of 
natural  history  ever  attempted.  But  for  this  he  endured 
exposure,  hardships  innumerable,  hunger  and  cold,  the 
taunts  of  strangers,  and  the  pity  and  distrust  of  friends. 

A  rough,  hard  working  frontiersman,  who  had  heard 
that  the  Emperor  of  Russia,  after  examining  Audu- 
bon's splended  work,  was  so  much  delighted  that  he 
presented  the  author  with  a  signet  ring  studded  with 
diamonds  as  a  token  of  his  admiration,  thus  gave  vent 
to  his  indignation:  "  So  the  great,  overgrown 
Emperor  of  Roosia  gave  that  hateful  little  bird-shoot- 
ing, alligator-catching,  and  rattle-snake  sturriing,  crazy 
fellow  a  goold  ring,  did  he?  Well,  upon  my  word,  it 
is  just  like  the  Emperors  though;  plenty  to  throw 
away  on  fellows  who  never  do  an  honest  day's  work 
in  their  lives,  and  nothing  for  the  industrious  poor  man. 


44 


THE  PRICE  OF  SUCCESS. 


Audubon  is  the  kind  they  like.  I've  seen  him  loafing 
about  my  clearing  for  a  month  at  a  time;  so  dreadfully 
lazy  that  he  would  sit  all  day  under  a  tree,  pretending 
to  watch  a  bird  as  big  as  my  thumb,  build  its  nest ;  and 
what's  more,  he'd  shoot  humming  birds  with  a  rifle, 
and  let  deer  and  turkeys  (that's  game)  pass  unnoticed. 
I  don't  think  his  picters  were  worth  the  paper  he 
made  'em  on,  nor  was  he  worth ,  the  powder  that 
would  blow  him  up."  The  rough  frontiersman  prob- 
ably expressed  the  estimate  in  which  the  patient  labors 
of  the  naturalist  were  held  by  the  great  mass  of  people; 
and  so  the  price  he  paid  for  his  success  was  not  only 
his  solitary  wanderings  and  tireless  researches,  but  the 
indifference  with  which  his  work  was  regarded,  and  the 
entire  lack  of  appreciation  on  the  part  of  even  the  edu- 
cated classes  with  which  it  was  at  first  received.  The 
multitude  little  think  of  what  success  costs,  and  would 
be  unwilling  to  pay  the  price  did  they  know  it. 

It  is  only  those  who  are  willing  to  tread  the  rugged 
road  of  self-denial  and  toil  that  need  expect  to  suc- 
ceed in  any  line  of  effort.  The  great  mulfitude  whose 
object  in  life  is  to  gratify  their  desires,  and  who  live  for 
mere  enjoyment,  will  pass  away,  and  soon  their  memo- 
ries will  be  forgotten.  In  the  immortal  allegory  of 
Bunyan,  the  great  dreamer,  one  stood  at  the  door  of  a 
palace,  the  entrance  to  which  was  disputed  by  armed 
men,  and  cried, 

"  Come  in,  come  in! 

Eternal  glory  thou  shalt  win!" 


THE  PRICE  OF  SUCCESS. 


45 


and  soon  the  pilgrim  saw  approaching  a  resolute  man 
who  drew  his  sword  with  such  effect  that  the  opposing 
forces  gave  way,  and  in  triumph  he  entered  the  palace. 

Thus  it  is  in  life.  The  temple  of  honor  is  beset  with 
legions  of  difficulties  and  obstacles,  and  he  who  would 
enter  must  draw  his  sword,  and  with  brave  and  resolute 
spirit  battle  valiantly  against  each  opposing  foe. 

It  is  related  of  Alexander  the  Great  that  he  u  de- 
sired his  preceptor  to  prepare  for  him  some  easier  and 
shorter  way  to  learn  geometry;  but  he  was  told  that 
he  must  be  content  to  travel  the  same  road  as  others. 

kl  It  is  the  old  route  of  labor,  along  which  are  many 
landmarks  and  many  wrecks.  It  is  lesson  after  lesson 
with  the  scholar,  blow  after  blow  with  the  laborer,  crop 
after  crop  with  the  farmer,  picture  after  picture  with 
the  painter,  step  after  step  and  mile  after  mile  with  the 
traveler,  that  secures  what  all  desire — success.11 

Then  labor  on  patiently,  toiler,  whatever  may  be 
vour  task — whether  of  the  hand  or  the  brain.  Work 
wisely  and  steadily,  and  in  due  time  you  will  be 
crowned  with  that  success  which  you  have  so  richly 
earned. 


(Shoige  of  (Companions. 


POET,  showing  a  profound  knowledge  of 
human  nature,  has  well  said: 
"We  grow  like  those  with  whom  we  daily  blend," 
and  both  the  deductions  of  reason  and  the 
fruits  of  experience  abundantly  verify  the  assertion. 
God  has  created  us  with  such  delicate  and  sensitive 
natures  that  we  are  unconsciously  influenced  by  those 
around  us, — we  acquire  their  eccentricities,  we  imitate 
their  style  of  speech,  our  minds  become  accustomed  to 
run  in  the  same  grooves,  and  we  often  even  adopt  the 
very  tone  of  voice  or  manner  of  expression.  A  profes- 
sor in  a  college  will  often  impress  a  certain  peculiarity 
of  manner  upon  whole  classes  of  pupils,  and  how  often 
a  great  orator  will  engraft  the  intonations  of  his  voice, 
the  singularity  of  his,  gestures,  or  the  idioms  of  his  lan- 
guage upon  hundreds  who  are  spell-bound  by  his  elo- 
quence. We  are  creatures  of  imitation,  and  no  effort 
of  the  will,  however  powerful,  can  wholly  free  us  from 
this  universal  principle.  We  are  like  a  looking-glass, 
— we  reflect  back  the  figures  held  before  us.  If  a 
jolly,  vivacious  acquaintance,  who  is  fairly  brimming 
over  with  good  humor  and  sprightliness,  comes  to  us, 
how  soon  we  ourselves  become  mirthful,  and  feel  our 
whole  being  aglow  with  an  infectious  enthusiasm;  or  if 
:  46 


CHOICE  OF  COMPANIONS. 


47 


in  the  company  of  a  sour,  complaining  person,  how 
quickly  our  spirits  become  depressed,  and  yield  to  the 
same  fault-finding  tendency.  And  so  not  only  with  at- 
tributes of  character,  but  also  in  matters  of  taste,  how 
often  do  we  see  the  mind  largely  controlled  by  the  in- 
fluence of  early  associates.  The  love  for  an  art  or  a 
profession,  or  an  intellectual  pursuit,  is  often  derived 
from  the  influence  of  some  cherished  friend,  to  whom 
one  looks  up  with  tender  regard  and  confidence. 

It  is  one  of  the  revelations  of  chemistry,  that  some 
substances  produce  changes  in  others,  by  their  mere 
presence;  and  this  is  certainly  true  of  our  associates. 
Can  we  not  all  call  to  mind  people  whom  just  to  meet 
makes  us  feel  more  kindly,  earnest  and  noble ;  and  for- 
tunate are  we  if  we  do  not  know  others  who  turn  the 
milk  of  human  kindness  sour,  and  All  us  with  dissatis- 
faction and  distrust.  That  wise  old  proverb,  "  Tell  me 
thy  company  and  I  will  tell  thee  what  thou  art,"  we 
unconsciously  apply  when  forming  our  judgment  of 
others.  The  maxim,  "  Keep  company  with  the  good 
and  thou  wilt  be  one  of  them,11  contains  a  golden  truth. 
Sir  Peter  Lely,  the  great  painter,  made  it  a  rule  never 
to  look  at  a  bad  picture,,  because  he  found  by  experi- 
ence that  whenever  he  did  so,  his  pencil  took  a  hint 
from  it,  which  disfigured  his  own  work,  so  subtile  and 
insidious  are  the  influences  of  evil  association.  John 
B.  Gough,  that  matchless  temperance  orator,  never 
ceased  to  lament  the  evil  companionship  of  his  young 
manhood.    Speaking  on  this  subject,  he  said:  "I 


48 


CHOICE  OF  COMPANIONS. 


would  give  my  right  hand  if  I  could  forget  that  which 
I  have  learned  in  evil  society ;  if  I  could  tear  from  my 
remembrance  the  scenes  which  I  have  witnessed,  the 
transactions  which  have  taken  place  before  me.  You 
cannot,  I  believe,  take  away  the  effect  of  a  single  im- 
pure thought  that  has  lodged  and  harbored  in  the 
heart.  You  may  pray  against  it,  and,  by  God's  grace, 
you  may  conquer  it ;  but  it  will,  through  life,  cause  you 
bitterness  and  anguish."  Tennyson  uttered  in  a  line 
a  thought  more  powerful  than  the  theories  of  whole 
schools  of  philosophy, 

"  I  am  a  part  of  all  that  I  have  met." 

Charles  Kingsley  thus  enlarges  on  the  same  thought : 
u  Men  become  false  if  they  live  with  liars;  cynics  if 
they  live  with  scorners;  mean  if  they  live  with  the 
coveteous;  affected  if  with  the  affected,  and  actually 
catch  the  expression  of  each  others  faces.  *  *  * 
Whomsoever  a  young  man  or  a  young  woman  shall 
choose  as  their  ideal,  to  him  or  her  they  will  grow  like, 
according  to  their  power;  so  much  so,  that  I  have  seen 
a  man  of  real  genius,  stamp  not  only  his  moral 
peculiarities  and  habits  of  thought,  but  his  tones  of 
voice  and  handwriting,  on  a  whole  school  of  disciples  of 
very  different  characters  from  himself,  and  from  each 
other." 

If,  then,  our  characters  are  thus  moulded  by  those 
with  whom  we  associate,  how  careful  should  we  be  in 
the  choice  of  our  company.    If  we  cultivate  the  society 


CHOICE  OF  COMPANIONS. 


49 


of  those  who  possess  superior  mind  and  exalted  char- 
acter, we  may  hope  to  become  like  them. 

Thackeray  has  left  this  excellent  advice:  "Try  to 
frequent  the  company  of  your  betters;  in  books  and 
society,  that  is  the  most  wholesome  society.  Learn  to 
admire  rightly;  the  great  pleasure  in  life  is  that.  Note 
what  the  great  men  admired;  they  admired  great 
things;  narrow  spirits  admire  basely,  and  worship 
meanly.'" 

Emerson  says:  "Talk  much  with  any  man  of  vig- 
orous mind,  and  we  acquire  very  fast  the  habit  of  looking 
at  things  in  the  same  light,  and  on  each  occurrence  we 
anticipate  his  thought."  And  so,  if  we  mingle  with 
those  who  have  lofty  views  of  life, — who  are  blessed 
with  all  the  charms  which  accompany  purity  of  thought 
and  action,  we  gradually  learn  to  look  from  the  same 
standpoint;  we  become  animated  with  the  same  noble 
resolves;  we  see  glimpses  of  their  glorious  ideals,  and 
we  become  elevated  and  purified  by  the  blessed  in- 
fluence which  emanates  from  them. 

That  great  preacher,  John  Wesley,  when  a  student 
at  Oxford,  made  a  resolution  that  he  would  have  no 
companions  by  chance,  but  by  choice,  and  that  he 
would  only  choose  such  as  would  "  help  him  on  his  way 
to  heaven;11  and  this  resolution  he  carried  out  strictly, 
and  a  life  of  honor  and  usefulness  followed,  such  as  but 
few  attain. 

On  the  other  hand,  Charles  Lamb,  naturally  one  of 
the  most  brilliant  and  amiable  of  men,  when  young, 


So 


CHOICE  OF  COMPANIONS. 


began  to  frequent  the  company  of  the  boisterous,  in- 
temperate and  dissipated,  who  thought  themselves  witty 
and  jovial,  and  what  were  the  fruits?  A  dozen  years 
after,  a  miserable  wreck  of  manhood,  he  said:  "  Be- 
hold me  now,  at  the  robust  period  of  life,  reduced  to 
imbecility  and  decay.  Life  itself,  my  waking  life,  has 
much  of  the  confusion,  the  trouble,  the  obscure  per- 
plexity of  an  ill  dream.  In  the  day  time  I  stumble 
upon  dark  mountains.  Business,  which  I  used  to  enter 
upon  with  some  degree  of  alacrity,  now  wearies,  af- 
frights and  perplexes  me.  I  fancy  all  sorts  of  dis- 
couragements, and  am  ready  to  give  up  an  occupation 
that  gives  me  bread,  from  a  harrassing  conceit  of  inca- 
pacity. So  much  the  springs  of  action  are  broken. 
My  favorite  occupations  in  times  past,  now  cease  to  en- 
tertain. I  can  do  nothing  readily.  Application  for 
ever  so  short  a  time  kills  me." 

Such  was  the  fearful  retribution  which  evil  brought 
him,  even  while  yet  young,  and  such  will  be  meted  out 
to  all  who  are  deluded  enough  to  follow  the  same 
perilous  course.  The  power  to  choose  is  placed  in  our 
hands, — the  good  and  pure  and  wise  are  ever  ready  to 
welcome  us  to  their  circle,  and  a  long  life  of  honor,  use- 
fulness and  blessed  influence  will  attend  the  choice. 
The  corrupt  and  abandoned  beckon  us  also  to  their 
midst,  but  through  the  enchantments  and  witcheries  of 
their  vaunted  pleasures  may  be  seen  shame  and  dis- 
honor, a  wasted  life,  and  a  premature  grave. 


Gnjoy  Lcife  as  you  <3o. 


Q^jl  INHERE  is  an  Eastern  legend  of  a  powerful 
^^^V  genii,  who  promised  a  beautiful  maiden  a  gift 

^J0)  of  rare  value  if  she  would  pass  through  a 
field  of  corn  and,  without  pausing,  going 
backward,  or  wandering  hither  and  thither,  select  the 
largest  and  ripest  ear, — the  value  of  the  gift  to  be  in 
proportion  to  the  size  and  perfection  of  the  ear  she 
should  choose.  She  passed  through  the  field,  seeing  a 
great  many  well  worth  gathering,  but  always  hoping 
to  find  a  larger  and  more  perfect  one,  she  passed  them 
all  by,  when,  coming  to  a  part  of  the  field  where  the 
stalks  grew  more  stunted,  she  disdained  to  take  one 
from  these,  and  so  came  through  to  the  other  side 
without  having  selected  any. 

This  .little  fable  is  a  faithful  picture  of  many  lives, 
which  are  rejecting  the  good  things  in  their  way  and 
within  their  reach,  for  something  before  them  for 
which  they  vainly  hope,  but  will  never  secure.  On  a 
dark  night  and  in  a  dangerous  place,  where  the  foot- 
ing is  insecure,  a  lantern  in  the  hand  is  worth  a  dozen 
stars. 

It  is  well  to  look  beyond  the  present  into  the  future, 
and  in  the  season  of  strength  and  prosperity,  to  make 

51 


52 


ENJOY  LIFE  AS  YOU  GO. 


provision  for  a  time  when  misfortune  and  old  age  may 
overtake  us.  This  is  a  positive  duty  that  we  owe  to 
ourselves  and  to  society,  and  if  we  neglect  to  do  this, 
we  must  reap  the  bitter  consequences  of  our  indiscre- 
tion, for  every  person  in  his  right  mind  will  look  at 
life  as  a  whole,  and  work  for  the  end  as  well  as  for 
the  beginning.  But  this  does  not  mean  that  we  should 
ignore  the  present  altogether,  nor  that  our  pleasures 
should  consist  solely  in  the  anticipation  of  some  future 
prosperity  or  expected  success. 

Some  one  has  said  that  of  all  the  dreary  disillusions, 
the  dreariest  must  be  that  of  the  rich  old  man  who  has 
denied  himself  every  pleasure  during  the  years  when 
he  had  the  power  to  enjoy  it,  and  sits  down  to  partake 
at  the  eleventh  hour  of  the  feast  of  life,  when  appetite 
is  dead,  and  love  has  departed.  And  yet  what  multi- 
tudes are  doing  this  very  thing,  and  thus  cheating 
themselves  of  the  most  rational  enjoyment  of  their  ex- 
istence. The  business  man  with  a  moderate  compe- 
tence, instead  of  enjoying  -it,  is  eager  to  realize  some 
ambitious  dream  of  a  widely  extended  power  and  pat- 
ronage. He  lays  plans  which  require  half  a  lifetime 
to  carry  out,  and  then  bends  all  his  energies  to  attain 
his  end,  and  in  the  meantime  all  is  worry,  bustle  and 
anxiety,  home  is  but  a  stopping  place,  and  he  derives 
no  substantial  pleasures  from  friends,  society  or  intel- 
lectual recreations.  He  thinks  that  he  will  wait  until 
his  scheme  is  realized,  and  then  he  will  enjoy  life.  In 
a  majority  of  instances  his  planning  ends  in  disappoint- 


ENJOY  LIFE  AS  YOU  GO. 


53 


ment,  and  he  becomes  embittered  in  temper  and  spirit 
by  failure;  but  if  he  should  succeed,  and  have  the  proud 
satisfaction  of  seeing  the  realization  of  his  dreams,  he 
finds  that,  some  way  or  other,  happiness  still  seems  to 
be  somewhere  in  the  future,  and  is  not  found  just  how 
and  where  he  expected.  And  so  life  passes  away 
without  affording  him  day  by  day  as  he  passes  through 
it,  those  little  pleasures,  healthful  enjoyments  and 
wholesome  recreations  which  might  have  brightened 
his  pathway. 

A  popular  writer  has  said,  and  how  often  it  is  veri- 
fied by  observation,  "  How  many  men  there  are  who 
have  toiled  and  saved  to  make  money  that  they  might 
be  happy  by  and  by,  but  who,  by  the  time  they  are 
fifty  or  sixty  years  old,  have  used  up  all  the  enjoyable 
nerve  in  them?  During  their  early  life  they  carried 
economy  and  frugality  to  the  excess  of  stinginess,  and 
when  the  time  came  that  they  expected  joy  there  was 
no  joy  for  them.'" 

A  sagacious  man  has  well  observed:  "How  can  the 
eager,  driven  man  of  business  pause  to  read  and  study? 
how  can  he  command  the  calmness  and  quiet  necessary 
to  form  habits  of  thought  ?  how  can  he  acquire  a  love 
of  literary  pursuits  when  engrossed  constantly  in  far 
different  matters?  Here  again  he  admits  he  is  not 
living  now,  but  only  getting  ready  to  live  in  the  future. 
In  the  same  way  he  postpones  liberality.  He  cannot 
afford  to  be  generous  now,  as  every  dollar  is  needed 
to  support  and  extend  his  business;  after  awhile,  when 


54 


ENJOY  LIFE  AS  YOU  GO. 


he  is  rich  enough,  he  will  devote  his  well  earned  gains 
to  the  good  of  his  fellow  men,  and  the  promotion  of 
beneficent  enterprises.  So  he  drifts  on  from  year  to 
year,  letting  slip  hundreds  of  present  opportunities  of 
doing  good,  in  the  mistaken  idea  that  thus  he  can  bet- 
ter embrace  those  of  the  future."  The  wife  and 
mother,  wearied  with  unnumbered  cares,  and  ex- 
hausted by  nightly  vigils  and  daily  solicitudes,  is  often 
well-nigh  discouraged,  and  looks  only  to  the  grave  for 
relief  from  weariness.  Would  it  not  strengthen  her 
heart  and  brighten  her  way  with  some  gleams  of  pres- 
ent joy  could  she  but  realize  how  exalted  is  the  place 
to  which  God  has  called  her,  and  to  what  blessed  min- 
istry she  is  appointed.  Were  that  home  to  be  swept 
away  by  some  unforeseen  calamity,  or  darkened  by  the 
shadow  of  death,  how  would  she  look  back  to  former 
days  and  wonder  that  they  were  not  full  of  praise  and 
thanksgiving. 

That  charming  writer,  Miss  Muloch,  has  truly  said: 
"  Nobody  will  see  his  own  blessings,  or  open  his  heart 
to  enjoy  them,  till  the  golden  hour  has  gone  forever, 
and  he  finds  out  too  late  all  that  he  might  have  had, 
and  might  have  done."  If  we  cannot  have  just  the 
things  we  would  like  in  this  world  of  ours,  it  is  the 
wisest  way  to  like  what  we  have.  There  is  a  pro- 
found and  practical  philosophy  in  the  sentiment  ex- 
pressed by  a  recent  writer:  "  This  looking  forward  to 
enjoyment  don't  pay.  From  what  I  know  of  it,  I 
would  as  soon  chase  butterflies  for  a  living,  or  bottle 


EN'JOY  LIFE  AS  YOU  GO. 


55 


moonshine  for  a  cloudy  night.'  The  only  way  to  be 
happy  is  to  take  the  drops  of  happiness  as  God  gives 
them  to  us  every  day  of  our  lives.  The  boy  must 
learn  to  be  happy  while  he  is  plodding  over  his  lessons ; 
the  apprentice  when  he  is  learning  his  trade;  the  mer- 
chant while  he  is  making  his  fortune,  or  they  will  be 
sure  to  miss  their  enjoyment  when  they  have  gained 
what  they  have  sighed  for."  Let  us,  then,  while  plan- 
ning for  the  future,  beware  how  we  slight  the  present; 
the  now  of  life  is  the  only  time  of  which  we  are  sure, 
and  it  should  be  our  aim  to  improve  and  enjoy,  not 
with  a  prodigal's  waste,  or  miser's  stint,  but  with  the 
rational  purpose  of  making  every  hour  contribute 
something  to  the  happiness  and  value  of  a  lifetime. 

"  There  is  a  good  time  coining,  boys ;  " 

So  runs  the  hopeful  song; 
Such  is  the  poetry  of  youth, 

When  life  and  hope  are  strong; 
But  when  these  buoyant  days  are  passed 

Age  cries :  "  How  changed  are  men ! 
Things  were  not  so  when  I  was  young, 

The  best  of  times  was  then." 

"  There  is  a  good  time  coming,  boys;" 

And  many  a  one  has  passed; 
For  each  has  had  his  own  good  time, 

And  will  have  to  the  last. 
Then  do  thy  work  while  lingers  youth, 

With  freshness  on  its  brow, 
Still  mindful  of  life's  greatest  truth, 

The  best  of  times  is  now. 


LnmmiiE  (9HING3. 


Sg^btlCCESS  or  failure  depends  in  a  great  de- 
2^j|p  gree  upon  the  attention  given  to  little  things 
and  petty  details.    It  is  said  that  the  Duke 


of  Wellington  largely  owed  his  victories  to  the  im- 
portance which  he  attached  to  the  seemingly  unim- 
portant details  of  army  life.  Nothing  was  too  minute 
to  escape  his  notice, — his  soldiers1  shoes,  the  camp 
kettles,  rations,  horse  fodder,  and  everything  pertain- 
ing to  their  equipments  was  subject  to  his  vigorous  per- 
sonal investigation,  and  the  fruits  of  this  attention  to 
little  things  were  successful  campaigns  and  glorious 
victories.  Napoleon  attributed  his  success  to  his  wise 
use  of  time,  which  enabled  him  to  hurl  his  forces  like 
thunder-bolts  in  unexpected  places.  Nelson,  the 
greatest  sea  warrior  of  modern  times,  said  that  he 
owed  all  his  success  in  life  to  having  been  always  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  before  his  time,  and  to  his  habit  of 
giving  the  most  minute  attention  to  details. 

A  person  was  once  watching  the  great  sculptor 
Canova,  while  he  was  completing  one  of  his  marvelous 
statues.  The  taps  of  the  artist's  mallet  were  seem- 
ingly so  trivial  and  meaningless,  that  the  visitor 
thought  that  he  was  making  sport  of  his  work,  but  the 
artist  rebuked  him  with  these  words:    "  The  touches 


56 


LITTLE  THINGS. 


57 


which  you  ignorantly  hold  in  such  small  esteem,  are 
the  very  things  which  make  the  difference  between 
the  failure  of  a  bungler  and  the  perfection  of  a  master." 

Poussin,  the  great  painter,  accounted  for  his  reputa- 
tion in  these  words:  "  Because  I  have  neglected  noth- 
ing; "  and  so  in  all  departments  of  human  activity,  the 
meed  of  highest  excellence  is  awarded  to  those  who 
have  exhibited  tireless  devotion  to  the  petty  details  of 
their  calling. 

To  what  important  results  have  little  things  con- 
tributed. The  discovery  of  printing  was  suggested 
by  carving  some  rude  letters  on  the  bark  of  a  tree. 
A  boiling  tea  kettle  indicated  the  power  of  steam  and 
set  in  tireless  activity  a  busy  brain;  and  a  perfected 
steam  engine  was  the  result.  That  wonderful  force  in 
nature — electricity — was  discovered  by  noticing  that  a 
polished  surface,  when  sharply  rubbed,  attracted  small 
bits  of  paper.  A  lamp  swinging  in  a  church  suggested 
to  the  observing  mind  of  Galileo  the  first  idea  of  a 
pendulum.  A  spider's  web  swinging  in  the  air, 
stretched  from  point  to  point,  was  all  that  a  fertile  brain 
was  waiting  for  to  give  birth  to  the  conception  of  a  sus- 
pension bridge.  A  little  spark,  accidentally  falling  on 
some  ingredients  mixed  in  a  mortar,  led  to  the  dis- 
covery of  gunpowder,  and  thus  to  a  complete  revolu- 
tion in  the  mode  of  warfare.  The  falling  of  an  apple, 
set  at  work  the  mighty  intellect  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton, 
and  the  discovery  of  the  law  of  gravitation  was  the  re- 
sult.   The  telescope  and  all  the  wonderful  revelations 


58 


LITTLE  THINGS. 


it  makes  known  to  us  of  the  illimitable  universe,  we 
owe  to  the  trifling  occurrence  of  some  children  looking 
through  several  pairs  of  spectacles  at  a  distant  object, 
and  calling  the  attention  of  their  father  to  its  changed 
appearance.  One  of  Handel's  matchless  harmonies 
was  suggested  to  him  by  hearing  the  sounds  from  a 
blacksmith's  anvil.  The  change  of  a  comma  in  a  bill 
which  passed  through  congress  several  years  ago,  cost 
our  government  a  million  dollars.  The  history  of 
France  was  changed,  and  a  powerful  dynasty  over 
thrown  by  a  glass  of  wine.  The  Duke  of  Orleans,  the 
son  and  prospective  successor  of  King  Louis 
Phillipe,  a  noble  young  man  physically  and  mor- 
ally, while  breakfasting  with  some  friends  on  a 
convivial  occasion,  although  too  elevated  a  char- 
acter to  be  dissipated,  yet  was  tempted  by  the 
festivity  of  the  hour  to  drink  a  glass  of  wine  too  much. 
On  parting  from  his  companions  he  took  a  carriage,  the 
horses  took  fright,  he  leaped  to  the  ground,  and  being 
slightly  unbalanced,  he  lost  his  footing,  his  head  was 
dashed  against  the  pavement,  and  he  was  carried 
away  bruised  and  unconscious,  soon  to  die.  If  it  had 
not  been  for  that  extra  glass  of  wine,  he  would  prob- 
ably have  kept  his  seat,  or  when  springing  to  the 
ground  would  have  alighted  on  his  feet.  That  glass 
of  wine  brought  about  the  death  of  the  heir  apparent 
to  the  throne,  the  exile  of  his  family,  and  the  confisca- 
tion of  their  immense  wealth  amounting  to  a  hundred 
million  of  dollars. 


LITTLE  THINGS. 


59 


A  cricket  once  saved  an  important  military  expe- 
dition from  destruction.  The  commanding  officer, 
Cabeza  de  Vaca,  and  several  hundred  of  his  men  were 
on  a  great  ship  going  to  South  America,  and,  nearing 
the  shore,  through  the  carelessness  of  the  watch,  they 
would  have  been  dashed  against  a  ledge  of  rock  had 
it  not  been  for  a  little  cricket  which  a  soldier  had 
brought  on  board.  The  little  insect  had  been  silent 
during  the  whole  voyage,  but  scenting  the  land,  it 
struck  up  its  shrillest  note,  and  by  this  they  were 
warned  of  their  danger  and  were  saved.  An  insect  is 
a  small  creature  compared  to  the  huge  beasts  of  the 
forest,  but  it  has  been  calculated  that  the  insects  upon 
our  globe,  if  piled  in  one  mass,  would  exceed  in  bulk 
the  beasts  and  birds. 

We  unconsciously  form  our  estimate  of  people  by 
little  things.  A  word  or  a  look  often  reveals  the  inner 
nature.  A  pin,  says  an  English  writer,  is  a  very  little 
thing  in  an  article  of  dress,  but  the  way  it  is  put  into 
the  dress  often  reveals  to  you  the  character  of  the 
wearer. 

Neglect  of  little  things  has  ruined  many  a  rich  man ; 
it  has  scattered  many  a  princely  fortune;  it  has  de- 
stroyed many  a  prosperous  business;  it  has  defeated 
many  an  important  enterprise;  it  has  damaged  many  a 
fine  reputation ;  it  has  broken  down  many  a  good  con- 
stitution; it  has  made  wretched  many  a  happy  life;  it 
has  wrecked  many  a  precious  soul. 

Great  learning  consists  in  an  aggregate  of  an  infinite 


6o 


LITTLE  THINGS. 


number  of  little  facts,  which  have  been  separately 
mastered.  That  great  philosopher,  John  Locke,  said, 
"  The  chief  art  of  learning  is  to  attempt  but  little  at  a 
time.  The  widest  excursions  of  the  mind  are  made  by 
short  flights,  frequently  repeated;  the  most  lofty 
fabrics  of  science  are  formed  by  the  continued  accumu- 
lations of  single  propositions." 

Happiness  is  made  up  of  a  succession  of  pleasing  oc- 
currences, which,  though  they  may  be  small  in  them- 
selves, yet  make  one's  life  full  of  enjoyment.  A  kind 
word  is  but  a  little  thing,  but  it  has  changed  the  aspect 
of  the  whole  world  to  many  a  despairing  creature,  and 
saved  many  a  soul.  A  kind  action  may  cost  but  a 
moment's  effort  and  be  soon  forgotten  by  the  doer 
and  yet  it  may  save  a  life  to  usefulness  and  virtue. 

We  call  him  strong  who  stands  unmoved — 
Calm  as  some  tempest-beaten  rock — 
When  some  great  trouble  hurls  its  shock; 

We  say  of  him,  his  strength  is  proved; 
But  when  the  spent  storm  folds  its  wings, 

How  bears  he  then  life's  little  things  ? 

We  call  him  great  who  does  some  deed 
That  echo  bears  from  shore  to  shore — 
Does  that,  and  then  does  nothing  more; 

Yet  would  his  work  earn  richer  meed, 

When  brought  before  the  King  of  Kings, 
Were  he  but  great  in  little  things. 


Bodily  Uigof^. 


93 


;2^HERE  are  occasional  instances  of  men  whose 
^  active,  powerful  minds  seem  unfettered  by 
their  slight,  sickly  bodies,  and  who,  in  spite  of 
physical  weakness,  have  by  their  strong  will 
and  giant  intellect  accomplished  much,  But  this  is 
the  exception,  and  not  the  rule,  A  large  percentage 
of  the  ability  which  is  attributed  to  the  brain  is 
really  due  to  a  splendid  physique.  Bodily  vigor 
means  activity,  enthusiasm,  determination  and  energy, 
—  it  means  that  the  mind  has  at  command  its  best 
powers,  and  that  all  the  parts  of  our  nature  are  in 
a  condition  to  work  together  joyously  and  harmoni- 
ously. Most  of  those  who  have  accomplished  much  in 
the  world  have  been  vigorous  in  body  as  well  as  active 
in  mind,  and  have  been  distinguished  for  their  physical 
strength  and  endurance. 

Washington  had  a  splendid  physique,  and  excelled 
in  all  the  games  of  his  time.  One  of  his  relatives  said 
that  he  had  the  strongest  hands  of  any  man  he  had  ever 
known.  In  the  latter  part  of  his  life  he  was  passing 
over  his  estate  at  Mt.  Vernon  and  stopped  to  watch 
three  of  his  workmen  who  were  trying  to  raise  a  large 
stone  to  ?!  certain  position.    After  watching  their  use- 


62 


BODILY  VIGOR. 


less  attempts  for  some  time,  he  dismounted,  bade  them 
to  stand  aside,  and  then  with  a  giant's  grasp  he  lifted 
it  to  its  place,  remounted  his  horse  and  passed  on. 

Wesley,  whose  life  was  one  of  astonishing  labor,' 
observed  on  his  eighty-first  birthday:  u To-day  I 
entered  on  my  eighty-second  year,  and  found  myself 
just  as  strong  to  labor,  and  as  fit  for  exercise  in  body 
and  mind,  as  I  was  forty  years  ago.'1  At  the  age  of 
eighty- three  he  remarked .  UI  am  a  wonder  to  myself; 
it  is  now  twelve  years  since  I  have  felt  any  such  sensa- 
tion as  weariness.'"  Prof.  Wilson,  the  "Christopher 
North'1  of  Blackwood *s  Magazine,  as  might  be  expected 
from  his  exuberant  style,  was  a  man  fairly  overflowing 
with  vitality,  and  frequently  astonished  his  friends  by  his 
wonderful  powers  of  endurance.  He  thought  nothing  of 
a  jaunt  on  foot  of  twenty  or  thirty  miles  in  an  afternoon, 
merely  for  pleasure. 

Chief  Justice  Chase  was  a  man  of  herculean  frame, 
which  carried  him  through  the  excessive  fatigues  of 
his  laborious  life.  While  attending  the  Supreme 
Court  at  Washington  he  walked  every  day  regularly, 
winter  and  summer,  to  and  from  his  residence,  which 
was  two  miles  away.  John  Quincy  Adams  had  such 
a  strong  constitution  that  he  took  not  only  long 
walks,  but  bathed  in  the  Potomac  in  winter  as  well  as 
summer. 

It  is  a  matter  of  astonishment  how  a  long  list  of 
English  statesmen  have  kept  on  the  harness  of  toil  and 
seemed  to  preserve  their  powers  fresh  and  unimpaired 


BODILY  VIGOR. 


63 


even  beyond  the  allotted  period  of  life  Palmerstom, 
Russell,  Lyndhurst,  Brougham,  and  many  others, 
worked  at  the  most  exhaustive  labor  for  twenty  or 
thirty  years  after  the  powers  of  most  men  begin  to  fail. 
The  secret  was  their  bodily  vigor,  which  they  retained 
by  their  athletic  sports,  constant  exercise,  and  care  of 
themselves.  Some  one  has  said  that  "  a  strong  mind 
in  a  weak  body  is  like  a  superior  knife  blade  in  an  infe- 
rior handle.  Its  workmanship  may  be  ever  so  finished, 
its  temper  ever  so  true,  its  edge  ever  so  keen;  but  for 
want  of  means  to  wield  it  properly,  it  will  not  cut  to 
much  purpose.11 

In  these  days  of  fierce  competition  in  every  trade  and 
profession,  that  man  has  but  a  poor  prospect  of  success 
who  has  not  a  good  stock  of  vitality;  certainly  his 
chances  are  much  impaired  without  it.  In  a  long  and 
desperate  struggle,  the  man  who  wins  is  he  with  the 
firmest  nerve,  the  strongest  muscle,  the  best  blood;  for 
out  of  these  come  the  "  grit  "  which  is  bound  to  con- 
quer or  die.  Young  man,  if  you  are  fired  with  a  great 
purpose,  and  feel  your  blood  throb  with  the  pulse  of  a 
resistless  ambition,  guard  jealously  the  powers  of  your 
body :  take  means  to  make  your  frame  stronger,  your 
constitution  more  vigorous,  so  that  when  the  great 
strain  comes  which  your  ambition,  or  stern  duty,  will 
surely  bring,  you  may  not  falter  and  ignominiously 
sink  under  the  burden,  but  may  show  yourself  equipped 
with  strength  equal  to  every  emergency. 


Di^in^  and  Ims  Doings. 


MOS  LAWRENCE,  who  went  to  Boston  a 
poor  country  boy  and  became  one  of  the 
most  wealthy  and  successful  merchants  in 
the  land,  when  speaking  of  his  resolution 
never  to  drink  or  use  tobacco,  said:  "In  the  first 
place,  take  this  for  your  motto  at  the  commencement 
of  your  journey,  that  the  difference  of  going  just  right 
or  a  little  wrong,  will  be  the  difference  of  finding 
yourself  in  good  quarters,  or  in  a  miserable  bog  or 
slough  at  the  end  of  your  journey." 

One  of  the  most  important  subjects  on  which  to 
stand  "just  right "  is  the  matter  of  drinking,  for  of  all 
the  terrible  curses  that  have  destroyed  humanity,  in- 
temperance is  the  most  fearful.  Sir  Matthew  Hale, 
one  of  the  oldest  Chief  Justices  of  England  and  one  of 
the  purest  of  men,  declared  as  the  result  of  his  obser- 
vation during  his  long  experience  on  the  bench,  that 
four-fifths  of  the  crimes  and  offences  which  had  been 
committed  proceeded  from  strong  drink,  and  in  our 
own  days  Charles  Kingsley,  the  celebrated  divine  and 
writer,  of  London,  who  had  unusual  opportunities  for 
close  observation,  said  that  if  dyspepsia  and  liquors 
were  banished  from  society,  there  would  be  no  crime, 

64 


DRINK  AND   ITS  DOINGS 


65 


or  at  least  so  little,  that  we  should  not  consider  it  worth 
mentioning. 

As  much  money  is  spent  in  our  country  every 
twenty  years  for  liquors,  as  the  entire  property  of  the 
country  is  worth.  How  would  our  earth  be  redeemed 
if  a  vice  which  causes  four-fifths  of  the  crime,  and  this 
fearful  waste  of  substance  could  be  removed.  A 
quaint  old  writer  says:  "  There  is  no  sin  which  doth 
more  deface  Gods  image  than  drunkenness;  it  dis- 
guiseth  a  person,  and  doth  even  unman  him.  Drunk- 
enness makes  him  have  the  throat  of  a  fish,  the  belly 
of  a  swine,  and  the  head  of  an  ass.  Drunkenness  is 
the  shame  of  nature,  the  extinguisher  of  reason,  the 
shipwreck  of  chastity,  and  the  murder  of  conscience. 
The  cup  kills  more  than  the  cannon;  it  causes  dropsies, 
catarrhs,  apoplexies;  it  fills  the  eye  with  fire,  and  the 
legs  with  water,  and  turns  the  body  into  a  hospital/1 

Drink  perverts  the  appetite,  weakens  the  will,  de- 
bases the  moral  nature.  It  makes  a  man  coarse, 
brutal  and  repulsive  and  seems  to  cast  out  every  ele- 
ment of  manliness,  and  principle  of  honor.  The  only 
safe  rule  is  to  let  it  alone.  If  there  is  not  sufficient  reso- 
lution to  resist  the  first  glass,  what  folly  to  suppose 
that  the  tenth  or  fiftieth  can  be  put  away,  when  the 
habit  of  drinking  is  more  or  less  formed,  and  an  ap- 
petite created. 

Samuel  Johnson,  when  dining  with  Hannah  Moore, 
was  requested  to  take  a  glass  of  wine  with  her.  Said 
he,  "  I  can't  drink  a  little,  child,  therefore  I  never 


66 


DRINK  AND  ITS  DOINGS. 


touch  it.  Abstinence  is  as  easy  to  me  as  temperance 
would  be  difficult."  The  sad  experience  of  thousands 
of  ruined  men  will  be  but  repeated,  if  their  terrible  ex- 
ample of  beginning-  to  drink  moderately  is  followed 

A  talented  clergyman,  obliged  to  abandon  his 
church  and  profession  because  he  was  a  drunkard, 
thus  spoke  in  his  closing  address:  "  I  well  remember 
the  time  when  I  thought  it  strange  that  others  drank 
and  ruined  themselves  with  alcohol.  I  am  glad  that 
there  are  so  many  young  men  here  this  morning,  that 
I  may  lift  my  voice  in  warning,  and  beg  them  to 
profit  by  my  example.  You  think  now  that  you  are 
strong,  and  in  no  danger,  I  well  remember  the  time 
when  I  believed  the  same.  Twelve  years  ago,  when  1 
reached  forth  my  inexperienced  hand  to  take  the  in- 
toxicating cup,  I  thought  I  was  strong;  but  I  developed 
a  habit  that  now  holds  me  in  chains,  and  in  the  most 
abject  slavery  that  humanity  was  ever  subjected  to. 
It  holds  me  in  its  embrace  when  I  seek  my  bed  for  re- 
pose; it  disturbs  my  dreams  during  the  weary  hours 
of  the  night,  and  seizes  me  as  its  prey  when  I  rise  up 
in  the  morning  to  enter  upon  the  duties  of  the  day," 
and  then  looking  back  at  his  once  bright,  but  then 
ruined  prospects,  he  bade  them  to  profit  by  his  ex- 
ample. 

Dr.  Nott,  the  venerable  president  of  Union  College, 
made  this  terrible  charge  to  Christian  drinkers:  "  It  is 
the  reputable  Christian  wine  drinkers  who  are  the  men 
who  send  forth  from  the  high  places  of  society,  and 


DRINK  AND  ITS  DOINGS. 


6/ 


sometimes  even  from  the  portals  of  the  sanctuary,  an 
unsuspected,  unrebuked  but  powerful  influence,  which 
is  secretly  and  silently  doing  on  every  side — among 
the  young,  among  the  aged,  among  even  females — its 
wo7'k  of  death" 

At  a  religious  convention  an  influential  clergyman 
spoke  vehemently  in  favor  of  the  moderate  use  of  wine, 
and  denounced  those  who  would  banish  from  their 
tables  this  token  of  hospitality.  On  taking  his  seat  a 
venerable  layman  arose,  and  with  a  voice  trembling 
with  emotion  said  that  he  should  not  attempt  to  an- 
swer the  argument  of  the  clergyman,  but  relate  an  in- 
cident. He  said:  "  I  once  knew  a  father  in  moderate 
circumstances,  who  had  a  beloved  son  whom  he  edu- 
cated at  college  at  great  sacrifice.  While  at  college 
the  son  became  dissipated,  but  on  his  return  home  he 
was  induced  to  reform.  After  several  years,  when  he 
had  completed  his  professional  studies  and  was  about 
to  leave  home  to  enter  into  business,  he  was  invited  to 
dine  with  a  neighboring  clergyman  noted  for  his  hos- 
pitality and  social  qualities.  At  this  dinner,  wine  was 
introduced  and  offered  to  him  and  he  refused.  It  was 
again  offered  and  refused,  but  at  length  the  young  man 
was  ridiculed  for  his  strictness,  and  he  drank  and  fell, 
and  from  that  moment  became  a  confirmed  drunkard, 
and  long  since  has  found  a  drunkard's  grave.  "  Mr. 
Moderator,"  continued  the  old  man,  with  streaming 
eyes,  "I  am  that  father;  and  it  was  at  the  table  of  the 
clergyman  who  has  just  taken  his  seat,  that  his  token 


68 


DRINK  AND  ITS  DOINGS. 


of  hospitality  ruined  the  son  I  shall  never  cease  to 
mourn.1' 

Can  anything  be  more  terrible  than  for  a  man  to  be 
within  the  remorseless  grasp  of  this  debasing  appetite, 
to  realize  his  degradation,  and  to  see  his  approaching 
doom!  That  child  of  genius,  Burns,  the  Scottish 
poet,  declared  that  if  a  barrel  of  rum  were  placed  in 
one  corner  of  the  room,  and  a  loaded  cannon  were 
ready  to  be  fired  upon  him  if  he  approached  it,  he  had 
no  choice,  but  must  go  to  the  rum. 

A  story  is  told  of  a  stage-driver  on  the  Pacific  Coast 
who  was  dying,  and  who  in  his  last  moments  kept 
moving  his  foot  as  if  feeling  for  something.  On  being 
asked  what  he  wanted,  he  faintly  whispered:  "  I  am 
going  down  grade,  and  cannot  get  my  foot  on  the 
brake,"  and  then  died.  What  a  striking  illustration 
this  is  of  the  drunkard's  rapid  course  down  the  declivity 
of  life,  and  his  powerlessness  to  check  himself. 

Said  the  brilliant  Tom  Marshall  when  he  came  to 
die,  after  a  dissipated  life,  "Well,  well,  this  is  the  end. 
Tom  Marshall  is  dying,  dying,  not  having  a  suit  of 
clothes  in  which  to  be  buried;  dying  upon  a  borrowed 
bed,  covered  with  a  borrowed  sheet,  in  a  house  built 
for  charity.  Well,  well,  it  is  meet  and  proper,"  and 
thus  with  his  thoughts  reviewing  the  folly  of  his  course, 
he  passed  away. 

The  gifted  Charles  Lamb  thus  uttered  his  sad  wail 
of  warning  and  helplessness:  u  The  waters  have  gone 
over  me.  But  out  of  the  black  depths,  could  I  be 
heard  I  would  cry  out  to  all  those  who  have  but  set 


DRINK  AND   ITS  DOINGS. 


69 


one  foot  in  the  perilous  flood.  Could  the  youth,  to 
whom  the  flavor  of  his  first  wine  is  delicious  as  the 
opening  scene  of  life,  or  the  entering  upon  some  newly 
discovered  paradise,  look  into  my  desolation,  and  be 
made  to  understand  what  a  dreary  thing  it  is  when  a 
man  shall  feel  himself  going  down  a  precipice  with 
open  eyes  and  a  passive  will — to  see  his  destruction 
and  have  no  power  to  stop  it,  yet  feel  it  all  the  way 
emanating  from  himself;  to  see  all  goodness  emptied 
out  of  him,  and  yet  not  be  able  to  forget  a  time  when 
it  was  otherwise,  to  bear  about  the  piteous  spectacle 
of  his  own  ruin ;  could  he  see  my  fevered  eye,  feverish 
with  last  night's  drinking,  and  feverishly  looking  for 
to-night's  repetition  of  the  folly;  could  he  but  feel  the 
body  of  the  death  out  of  which  I  cry  hourly,  with 
feebler  outcry,  to  be  delivered — it  were  enough  to  make 
him  dash  the  sparkling  beverage  .  to  the  earth  in  all 
its  mantling  temptation.'" 

St.  Ambrose,  one  of  the  early  Christian  fathers,  tells 
of  a  drunkard  who,  being  informed  that  unless  he  ab- 
stained from  drunkenness  and  excess,  that  he  would 
lose  his  eyes,  replied :  1  Farewell,  sweet  light,  then. 
I  must  have  pleasure  in  that  sin ;  I  must  drink,  though 
I  drink  out  my  eyes;  then  farewell  eyes,  and  farewell 
light  and  all." 

Can  any  one  who  reads  these  sad  confessions  of  great 
and  talented  men,  who  have  been  addicted  to  drink, 
dare  hope  to  follow  their  example  and  not  reap  the 
harvest  of  woe  which  they  gathered?  That  great  man, 
Dr.  Guthrie,  in  describing  what  he  had  seen  in  the 


DRINK  AND  ITS  DOINGS. 


drunken  homes  of  Edinburgh,  says:  "  I  have  heard 
the  wail  of  children  crying  for  bread,  and  their  mother 
had  none  to  give  them.  I  have  seen  the  babe  pulling 
breasts  as  dry  as  if  the  starved  mother  had  been  dead. 
I  have  known  a  father  turn  a  step-daughter  into  the 
street  at  night,  bidding  the  sobbing  girl  who  bloomed 
into  womanhood  earn  her  bread  there  as  others  were 
doing.  I  have  bent  over  the  foul  pallet  of  a  dying  lad 
to  hear  him  whisper,  and  his  father  and  mother,  who 
were  sitting  half  drunk  by  the  fireside  had  pulled  the 
blankets  off  his  body  to  sell  them  for  drink.  I  have 
seen  the  children,  blanched  like  plants  growing  in  a 
cellar — for  weeks  they  never  breathed  a  mouthful  of 
fresh  air  for  want  of  rags  to  cover  their  nakedness; 
and  they  lived  in  continual  terror  of  a  drunken  father 
or  mother  coming  home  to  beat  them.  I  don't  rec- 
ollect ever  seeing  a  mother  in  these  wretched  dwell- 
ings dandling  her  infant,  or  of  hearing  the  little  crea- 
ture crow  or  laugh.  These  are  some  of  drink's  do- 
ings; but  nobody  can  know  the  misery  I  suffered  amid 
those  scenes  of  wretchedness,  woe,  want  and  sin." 

Young  man,  as  you  cherish  all  the  fond  hopes  and 
bright  promises  of  your  youth;  as  you  value  the  lofty 
aspirations  of  your  ambitious  manhood;  as  you  would 
preserve  the  brain  to  conceive,  the  will  to  direct  and 
the  arm  to  execute  in  all  their  might  as  God  has  given 
them  to  you ;  as  you  would  fulfill  your  obligations  to 
society,  and  to  your  family;  as  you  would  spare  sor- 
row to  the  parents  who  lean  upon  you,  do  not  tamper 
with  this  fearful  vice. 


GQa^e  Rome  ^jfct^agjfiye. 


OME  one  has  said  that  the  three  sweetest 
words  in  our  language  are,  "Mother,  Home 
r^;v  and  Heaven.''  We  may  well  pity  that 
being  so  unfortuate  as  not  to  have  enjoyed  the  bless- 
ings of  a  happy  home,  for  in  the  battle  of  life  we  need 
to  be  armed  with  the  counsels  and  prayers  of  a  mother, 
and  all  holy  and  sweet  home  influences,  if  we  are  to 
successfully  meet  the  snares  and  perils  which  will  be- 
set us.  Home  is  the  paradise,  in  which  this  wonderful 
'world  is  first  revealed  to  our  growing  consciousness, 
and  as  from  its  safe  shelter  we  look  out  upon  life  we 
form  our  estimate  of  it  according  to  the  impressions 
and  teachings  we  there  receive. 

If  the  home  is  brightened  with  the  sunshine  of  love, 
its  radiance  is  reflected  in  all  around  us,  and  the  whole 
world  appears  to  us  only  as  one  family, — full  of  kind 
thoughts,  tender  sympathies,  gentle  ministrations  and 
noble  deeds.  If  the  home  life  is  sour,  gloomy  and  un- 
happy, then  we  see  the  whole  world  through  the  same 
atmosphere  of  misery  and  discontent;  and  it  is  to  us 
only  a  dull,  dismal  prison,  crowded  with  selfish  souls, 
whose  petty  strifes  and  base  actions  cause  perpetual 
turmoils  and  unhappiness. 

A  contented  heart  ;is  better   than   great  riches- 

71 


72 


MAKE  HOME  ATTRACTIVE. 


Many  a  wealthy  man  looks  back  to  hours  in  his  early 
life  when  he  was  far  happier  than  now.  A  millionaire 
gives  a  leaf  from  his  own  experience:  "I'll  tell  you 
when  was  the  happiest  hour  of  my  life.  At  the  age  of 
one-and-twenty  I  had  saved  up  eight  hundred  dollars. 
I  was  earning  five  hundred  dollars  a  year,  and  my 
father  did  not  take  it  from  me,  only  requiring  that  I 
should  pay  for  my  board.  At  the  age  of  twenty-two 
I  had  secured  a  pretty  cottage,  just  outside  of  the  city. 
I  was  able  to  pay  two-thirds  of  the  value  down,  and  also 
to  furnish  it  respectably.  I  was  married  on  Sunday — a 
Sunday  in  June — at  my  father's  house.  My  wife  had 
come  to  me  poor  in  purse,  but  rich  in  the  wealth  of 
womanhood.  The  Sabbath  and  the  Sabbath  night 
we  passed  beneath  my  father's  roof,  and  on  Monday 
morning  I  went  to  my  work,  leaving  my  mother  and 
sisters  to  help  in  preparing  my  home.  On  Monday 
evening,  when  the  labors  of  the  day  were  done,  I  went 
not  to  the  paternal  shelter,  as  in  the  past,  but  to  my 
own  house — my  own  home.  The  holy  atmosphere  of 
that  hour  seems  to  surround  me  even  now  in  my 
memory.  I  opened  the  door  of  my  cottage  and 
entered.  I  laid  my  hat  upon  the  little  stand  in  the 
hall,  and  passed  on  to  the  kitchen — our  kitchen  and 
dining-room  were  all  in  one  then.  I  pushed  open  the 
kitchen  door.  The  table  was  set  against  the  wall; 
the  evening  meal  was  ready,  prepared  by  the  hands 
of  her  who  had  come  to  be  my  help-meet  in  deed  as 
well  as  in  name;  and  by  the  table,  with  a  throbbing, 


MAKE  HOME  ATTRACTIVE. 


73 


expectant  look  upon  her  lovely  and  loving  face,  stood 
my  wife. 

"  I  tried  to  speak  but  could  not.  I  could  only  clasp 
the  waiting  angel  to  my  bosom,  thus  showing  to  her 
the  ecstatic  burden  of  my  heart.  The  years  have 
passed — long,  long  years — and  wealth  has  flowed  in 
upon  me,  and  I  am  honored  and  envied;  but,  as  true 
as  heaven,  I  would  give  it  all,  every  dollar,  for  the  joy 
of  the  hour  of  that  June  evening  in  the  long,  long 
ago!"' 

It  is  the  home  and  its  influences  that  largely  mould 
the  character  and  shape  the  future  destiny  of  the 
young.  Byron  had  a  miserable  home  and  a  passionate 
mother,  and  his  whole  life  was  blighted  and  unhappy. 
He  sneered  at  purity,  doubted  all  goodness,  and  scoffed 
at  sacred  things.  His  wretched  life  and  profligate 
career,  were  but  the  legitimate  consequences  of  his  de- 
fective home  training.  Hundreds  of  illustrious  names 
might  be  mentioned,  of  those  who  were  equally  exposed 
to  temptation,  but  who  resisted  it  because  they  were 
strengthened  by  the  wise  training  and  tender  memo- 
ries of  happy  homes. 

O  ye  builders  of  homes,  who  hold  in  your  hands  this 
great  power  for  good  or  evil,  do  not  make  the  fatal 
mistake  of  caring  for  everything  else  but  this;  of 
spending  all  your  time,  and  exhausting  all  your  ener- 
gies in  pursuit  of  wealth,  society,  honor  or  fame,  for- 
getting that,  compared  to  a  happy  home,  all  these  are 
but  k>  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit/' 


74 


MAKE  HOME  ATTRACTIVE. 


Perhaps  you  are  hoarding  your  wealth  and  shorten- 
ing your  days  by  over-work,  in  order  to  secure  a  com- 
petence for  the  future  of  your  children,  while  your 
home  is  so  bare,  and  its  life  so  barren  that  they  will 
leave  it,  and  yourself,  at  the  first  opportunity  without 
regret.  Far  better  for  them  if  they  should  leave  it 
without  a  dollar  of  the  store  you  are  gathering  up,  could 
they  but  carry  away  with  them  tender  memories  of  its 
sheltering  roof,  and  a  wealth  of  warm  affection  for  you. 

Remember  that  youth  comes  to  us  but  once ;  that  it 
is  a  season  of  golden  hopes,  of  overflowing  spirits  and  of 
joyous  anticipations,  and  that  it  demands  surroundings 
suited  to  these  emotions.  You  may  require  no  recre- 
ation but  such  as  your  business  and  daily  toil  supply; 
your  mind  may  be  absorbed  in  your  plans  and  schemes, 
which  appear  to  you  of  almost  as  much  importance  as 
the  affairs  of  an  empire,  and  with  this  you  are  satisfied ; 
but,  if  so,  your  eyes  are  not  young  eyes,  and  your 
heart  must  have  long  ago  been  dead  to  the  voices  of 
your  youth,  to  expect  that  your  children  will  be  con- 
tented and  happy,  unless  you  respond  to  some  of  the 
impulses  of  their  joyous  natures.  If  you  have  not 
already  the  refining  power  of  music  in  your  little 
circle,  procure  a  piano  or  organ,  and  encourage  your 
children  to  sing  and  play.  Adorn  your  walls  with 
pictures  and  thus  cultivate  a  love  of  art;  subscribe  to 
a  standard  magazine  or  two,  and  provide  them  with 
such  books  as  will  give  them  glimpses  of  what  is  going 
on  in  the  world  around  them,  and  make  them  familiar 


MAKE  HOME  ATTRACTIVE. 


75 


with  the  best  current  and  standard  literature.  Encour- 
age a  love  for  flowers  and  flower  culture;  and  do  not 
be  ashamed,  nor  too  busy,  to  join  them  sometimes  in 
their  games  and  sports.  Do  not  keep  your  boys  at 
work  so  constantly  as  to  make  them  hate  the  old  farm, 
but  sometimes  let  them  have  part  of  an  afternoon  to 
themselves.  Give  them  some  tools  with  which  to 
exercise  their  mechanical  ingenuity  on  rainy  days  and 
at  odd  times.  Let  them  have  a  part  of  the  garden  for 
their  own  pleasure  and  profit,  and  a  sheep  or  colt  of 
their  own  to  care  for  and  manage ;  and  all  these  things 
will  be  so  many  anchors  to  fasten  them  to  home  and 
establish  their  loyalty  to  it. 

Some  one  has  wisely  said,  u  I  would  be  glad 
to  see  more  parents  understand  that  when  they 
spend  money  judiciously  to  improve  and  adorn 
the  house,  and  the  grounds  around  it,  they  are 
in  effect  paying  their  children  a  premium  to  stay 
at  home  as  much  as  possible  and  enjoy  it;  but  when 
they  spend  money  unnecessarily  in  fine  clothing  or 
jewelry  for  their  children,  they  are  paying  them  a 
premium  to  spend  their  time  away  from  home, — that 
is,  in  those  places  where  they  can  attract  the  most  at- 
tention, and  make  the  most  display.'" 

Above  all,  there  must  be  the  spirit  of  kindness  and 
harmony;  for  without  this,  all  else  would  be  mockery. 
An  old  laborer,  being  remonstrated  with  by  his  pastor 
for  not  bringing  up  his  boys  as  he  should,  said:  "  I 
dunno  know    how    7tis,  sir  ;    I  order   them  down 


76 


MAKE  HOME  ATTRACTIVE. 


to  pray  every  night  and  morning,  and  when  they 
won't  go  down  I  knock  'em  down,  and  yet  they  ain't 
good." 

Parental  authority  is  indispensable,  but  it  must  not 
degenerate  into  despotism,  for  despotism  in  families, 
as  in  nations,  ever  creates  rebellion.  Of  all  tyranny, 
that  in  the  home  is  the  most  odious.  Thackeray  has 
said:  "  In  our  society  there  is  no  law  to  control  the 
king  of  the  fireside.  He  is  master  of  property,  happi- 
ness— life,  almost.  He  may  kill  a  wife  gradually,  and 
be  no  more  questioned,  than  the  Grand  Seignor  who 
drowns  a  slave  at  midnight.  He  may  make  slaves  or 
hypocrites  of  his  children,  or  friends  and  freemen;  or 
drive  them  into  revolt  against  the  natural  law  of  love. 
When  the  annals  of  each  little  reign  are  shown  the 
Supreme  Master,  under  whom  we  hold  sovereignty, 
histories  will  be  laid  bare  of  household  tyrants,  cruel 
as  Amurath,  savage  as  Nero,  and  reckless  and  disso- 
lute as  Charles/' 

An  attractive  home  will  be  ruled  by  the  law  of  love. 
Oliver  Wendell  Holmes  has  said:  "  The  sound  of  a 
kiss  is  not  so  loud  as  that  of  a  cannon,  but  its  echo 
lasts  a  great  deal  longer."  When  your  children  do 
well,  do  not  be  afraid  to  tell  them  so.  Thomas  Hughes, 
the  hearty,  whole-souled  author  of  "  Tom  Brown  at 
Rugby,"  says :  "  You  can  never  get  a  man's  best  out  of 
him  without  praise,"  and  how  much  more  do  children 
need  it.  It  is  like  sunshine  to  them,  without  which  there 
can  be  neither  buds,  blossoms,  nor  fruit. 


MAKE  HOME  ATTRACTIVE. 


77 


This  custom  of  a  certain  family  might  be  followed 
with  like  happy  results  in  other  homes. 

In  a  certain  farm-house,  twenty  years  ago,  a  great 
blank-book  was  kept,  and  labeled  "  Home  Journal.'7 
Every  night  some  one  made  an  entry  in  it.  Father 
set  down  the  sale  of  the  calves,  or  mother  the  cut  of 
the  baby's  eye-tooth;  or.  perhaps.  Jenny  wrote  a  full 
account  of  the  sleighing  party  last  night:  or  Bob  the 
proceedings  of  the  Phi  Beta  Club.  On  towards  the  mid- 
dle of  the  book  there  was  an  entry  of  Jenny's  marriage, 
and  one  of  the  younger  girls  had  added  a  description  of 
the  bridesmaids'  dresses;  and  long  afterward  there  was 
written,  "  This  dav  father  died/1  in  Bob's  trembling 
hand.  There  was  a  blank  of  many  months  after  that. 
But  nothing  could  have  served  better  to  bind  that 
family  of  headstrong  boys  and  girls  together  than  the 
keeping  of  this  book.  They  come  back  to  the  old 
homestead  now,  men  and  women  with  grizzled  hair, 
to  see  their  mother,  who  is  still  living,  and  turn  over 
its  pages  reverently,  with  many  a  heart}"  laugh,  or  with 
tears  coming"  into  their  eves.  It  is  their  childhood 
come  back  again  in  visible  shape. 

Parents,  depend  upon  it.  you  have  no  holier  nor 
higher  work  to  do  than  to  make  home  attractive.  In 
after  years  your  endeavors  will  be  repaid  a  hundred 
fold  by  the  grateful  affection,  the  happy  memories,  and 
the  noble  lives  of  your  children,  who,  whatever  their 
success  elsewhere,  will  ever  turn  to  the  old  homestead 
and  its  inmates  as  the  Mecca  of  their  earthly  pilgrimage. 


(She  CQission  op  GQusig. 


one  has  said  that  music  "washes 
from  the  soul  the  dust  of  every-day 
It  thus  keeps  the  spirits*  fresh  and 
elastic,  and  better  fitted  to  combat  the  trials  and  per- 
plexities of  the  daily  routine  of  toil.  In  the  marvelous 
complex  structure  of  our  nature,  we  are  gifted  with 
certain  qualities  of  emotion,  imagination  and  enthusiasm, 
which  wield  a  power  superior  to  that  of  the  body,  and 
exercise  a  prerogative  all  their  own.  Music  is  one  of 
the  most  potent  agencies  to  arouse  these  powers,  and 
through  them  to  exercise  a  most  important  influence 
o*n  our  lives.  It  enables  us  to  forget  care  and  sorrow, 
and  drives  away  fatigue,  and  all  the  fogs  of  gloomy 
dejection;  it  rouses  to  unwonted  activity  the  latent 
powers  within  us,  inspires  the  heart  with  courage,  and 
nerves  it  with  new  resolutions ;  it  strengthens  the  will 
to  carry  forward  its  designs,  gives  to  the  world  about 
us  an  aspect  of  joy  and  brightness,  and  often  effects  a 
complete  transformation  in  all  our  surroundings. 
Martin  Luther  said,  "  The  devil  cannot  bear  singing," 
and  surely  there  is  nothing  like  it  to  cast  out  the 
demons  of  dark  foreboding-  and  discontent.  Richard 
Cceur  de  Lion,  King  of  England,  in  one  of  his  crusades 

7^ 


THE  MISSION  OF  MUSIC. 


79 


to  the  Holy  Land,  was  taken  captive  and  imprisoned 
in  an  unknown  dungeon.  A  favorite  servant  of  his 
named  Blondel,  disguised  himself  as  a  minstrel  and 
traveled  from  one  dungeon  to  another  playing -familiar 
airs  before  the  bars,  and  at  length  he  came  to  the  one 
where  the  king  was  confined,  and  was  answered  by  the 
voice  of  Richard  from  within.  This  led  to  the  ran- 
som of  the  king,  and  he  was  restored  to  his  throne  and 
people.  So  does  music  rescue  many  souls  from  dark 
dungeons  of  despair,  and  restore  them  to  their  right- 
ful place  in  the  world. 

During  a  critical  moment  in  the  battle  of  Waterloo, 
Wellington  discovered  to  his  surprise,  that  a  regiment 
of  Highlanders  began  to  waver.  He  found  that  the 
cause  of  so  unusual  an  occurrence  was,  that  the  band 
had  ceased  to  play.  He  ordered  at  once  that  the  bag- 
pipes— their  own  national  music — be  played  with  the 
greatest  spirit,  and  the  effect  was  like  magic, — the 
Highlanders  rallied  at  once,  and  went  forward  to  the 
terrible  conflict  with  the  most  ardent  enthusiasm.  In 
the  battle  of  life,  when  the  day  seems  against  us,  and 
we  begin  to  falter,  then  it  is  the  mission  of  music  to 
inspire  us  with  fresh  courage  and  enthusiasm,  and  to 
lead  us  to  victory.  When  Elisha  Kent  Kane  and  his 
men  were  imprisoned  by  the  fearful  rigors  of  an  Arctic 
winter,  they  were  saved  from  despair,  during  their 
months  of  weary  solitude  and  misery,  by  the  music 
from  an  old  violin,  which  one  of  the  men  had  carried 
with  him.    Thus  were  they  aided  to  keep  up  their 


8o 


THE  MISSION  OF  MUSIC. 


spirits  and  survive  the  terrible  ordeal  of  dreary  isola- 
tion. 

By  the  power  of  music,  wonders  have  been  wrought 
which  seemed  simply  impossible  to  perform.  When 
Napoleon  was  conducting  his  army  across  the  Alps, 
they  came  to  a  place  where  they  could  not  get  the 
ammunition  wagons  over  the  rocks.  He  went  to  the 
leader  of  the  band,  looked  over  his  list  of  music,  se- 
lected a  spirited  march,  and  ordered  the  whole  band 
to  play  it  with  vigor.  The  result  was  that  in  some 
way  or  other  the  ponderous  wagons  scaled  the  seem- 
ingly inaccessible  rocks,  and  the  army  moved  on. 

But  music  has  not  only  the  power  to  inspire  the 
heart  with  heroic  daring,  and  vigorous  resolves,  but  to 
melt  it  to  pity  and  tenderness.  It  is  related  of  a 
Turkish  conqueror  that  he  captured  a  Persian  city  and 
took  thirty  thousand  prisoners;  and,  although  they 
had  submitted  to  him  and  laid  down  their  arms,  yet  he 
formed  the  inhuman  resolution  of  putting  them  all  to 
death.  Among  them  was  a  musician  who  asked  as  a 
special  favor  that  he  might  be  brought  before  the  con- 
queror. This  was  done;  and  seizing  a  musical  instru- 
ment he  accompanied  it  with  his  voice,  and  sang  of  the 
triumphs  of  the  conqueror,  the  capture  of  the  city,  and 
the  incidents  that  had  transpired  in  connection  with  it. 
The  harmony  was  so  exquisite,  and  the  recital  of  the 
events  so  touching,  that  at  last  the  hard  heart  of  the 
tyrant  relented;  he  changed  his  purpose,  and  com- 
manded that  the  remainder  of  the  prisoners  should  be 


THE  MISSION  OF  MUSIC. 


81 


set  at  liberty.  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson  relates  an  in- 
cident of  a  poor  wretch  who  was  brought  up  for  some 
offense  before  a  western  police  court,  and  fined.  He 
was  told  that  he  might  go  if  he  would  pay  his  fine, 
but  he  had  neither  money  nor  friends.  He  took  a 
flute  from  his  pocket  and  began  to  play.  The  jurors 
waked  up,  the  officers  forgot  their  duties,  the  judge 
began  to  beat  time,  and  by  general  consent  he  was 
allowed  to  go  on  his  way.  Clara  Louise  Kellogg, 
when  once  visiting  a  lunatic  asylum,  after  singing  for 
the  more  quiet  patients  to  their  great  delight,  re- 
quested that  she  might  sing  to  the  mad  people.  She 
was  accompanied  by  the  officers  and  attendants  to  the 
wards  where  the  most  ungovernable  were  confined, 
and  in  a  moment  her  glorious  voice  stilled  the  tumult 
and  discord  of  that  motley  throng.  The  wondrous 
melody  seemed  to  kindle  for  a  few  brief  moments  in 
those  crazed  brains,  the  withered  ashes  of  long  lost 
reason  and  consciousness.  They  smiled,  they  nodded, 
they  wept,  they  called  her  an  angel,  gazed  at  her  with 
rapture,  and  crowded  about  her,  eager  to  touch  her 
hand,  her  dress,  or  her  feet.  So  can  music  soothe 
and  control  beclouded  intellects  and  ungovernable  pas- 
sions,  even  in  those  who  are  farthest  removed  from 
human  influence. 

But  it  is  the  mission  of  music  especially  to  make 
happier,  and  more  attractive  the  home.  It  is  said 
that  in  the  time  of  Alfred  the  Great,  it  was  the  custom 
to  pass  the  harp  to  each  of  the  company  in  turn,  to  sing 


82 


THE  MISSION  OF  MUSIC. 


and  play,  so  universal  was  the  love  and  practice  of 
music.  Well  would  it  be  in  these  later  days  if  there 
were  the  same  general  knowledge  and  love  of  song. 
How  many  homes  now  silent  or  discordant  would  be 
joyful  if  the  influence  of  song  was  let  in. 

It  may  be  taken  as  a  safe  rule  generally,  that  those 
are  happy  families  in  which  there  is  a  good  deal  of 
music,  and  if  the  history  of  such  families  could  be 
traced,  it  would  be  found  that  they  turn  out  the  least 
number  of  black  sheep,  and  the  largest  proportion  of 
useful  men  and  women.  Music  is  a  safeguard  against 
temptation;  it  is  a  delightful  recreation  which  refreshes 
the  mind  and  refines  the  heart;  it  is  one  of  the  best 
introductions  into  cultivated  and  desirable  society,  and 
affords  a  vast  fund  of  the  most  delightful  enjoyment. 

The  young  man  who  leaves  home  and  has  a  love  of 
music,  is  strongly  fortified  against  the  incursions  of 
lonesomeness  and  discontent,  when  left  to  his  own 
company, — which  loneliness  becomes  the  starting  point 
with  many,  to  bad  associations  and  evil  habits. 

It  is  interesting  to  notice  how  the  love  of  music 
seems  to  be  one  of  the  inherent  impulses  of  the  human 
heart,  an  impulse  so  powerful  that  it  survives  even 
barbarism  itself.  There  is  scarcely  a  savage  race  but 
what  have  their  rude  musical  instruments,  and  make 
the  attempt  to  express  some  phase  of  experience  and 
emotion  in  song.  As  an  eloquent  writer  has  beauti- 
fully observed:  "  Music  is  universally  appreciated 
ind  practiced.    The  English  plow  boy  sings  as  he 


THE  MISSION   OF  MUSIC.  83 

drives  his  team;  the  Scotch  Highlander  makes  the 
glens  and  gray  moors  resound  with  his  beautiful  song; 
the  Swiss,  Tyrolese  and  Carpathians  lighten  their 
labor  by  music ;  the  muleteer  of  Spain  cares  little  who 
is  on  the  throne  or  behind  it,  if  he  can  only  have  his 
early  carol;  the  vintager  of  Sicily  has  his  evening 
hymn,  even  beside  the  tire  of  the  burning  mount;  the 
fisherman  of  Naples  has  his  boat  song,  to  which  his 
rocking  boat  beats  time  on  that  beautiful  sea;  and  the 
gondolier  of  Venice  still  keeps  up  his  midnight  sere- 
nade.11 Cultivate,  then,  music  -  in  the  home,  and  let 
the  happy  voices  blend  in  sweet  song  in  the  family 
circle  on  long  winter  evenings,  or  in  rambles  under 
summer  skies. 

"  Such  songs  have  power  to  quiet 
The  restless  pulse  of  care, 
And  come  like  the  benediction 
That  follows  after  prayer." 

Let  the  household  ring  with  melody,  and  depend 
upon  it  its  blessed  influences  and  associations  will 
never,  never  be  forgotten. 


Sunny  Semper. 


^MfJF  it  were  possible  for  us  to  invoke  the  aid  of 
O/jML  some  powerful  genii,  who,  as  we  passed  through 
tj[^p  lif could  summon  troops  of  loving  friends 
around  us,  and  make  our  pathway  radiant  with 
their  smiles  and  blessings,  we  should  think  no  labor 
too  aiduous,  no  sacrifice  too  great  to  procure  such  in- 
estimable happiness.  If  such  a  beneficent  fairy  held 
court  and  dispensed  such  favors,  though  she  dwelt  in 
the  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth,  what  caravans  of 
eager  pilgrims  would  throng  to  that  favorite  realm. 
We  often  forget  that  the  priceless  charm  which  will 
secure  to  us  all  these  desirable  gifts  is  within  our 
reach.  It  is  the  charm  of  a  sunny  temper, — a  talisman 
more  potent  than  station,  more  precious  than  gold, 
more  to  be  desired  than  fine  rubies.  It  is  an  aroma, 
whose  fragrance  fills  the  air  with  the  odors  of  Paradise. 
It  is  an  amulet,  at  sight  of  which  dark  clouds  of  per 
plexity  and  hideous  shapes  of  discord  flee  away.  It 
wreathes  the  face  with  smiles,  creates  friends,  promotes 
cheerfulness,  awakens  tenderness,  and  scatters  happi- 
ness. It  fills  the  heart  with  joy,  it  robs  sorrow  of  its 
pain  and  makes  of  earth  a  very  heaven  below. 

It  was  written  of  Leigh  Hunt:  "  ,rTis  always  sun- 
rise somewhere  in  the  world.    In  the  heart  of  Hunt, 

84 


A  SUNNY  TEMPER. 


35 


Orion  was  always  purpling  the  sky."  Would  that  the 
world  contained  more  of  such  sunny  natures,  whose 
presence  makes  joy  infectious.  A  sunny  temper  makes 
graceful  the  garb  of  poverty.  It  smooths  the  rough 
places  in  the  pathway  of  life,  and  like  oil  on  troubled 
waters,  it  calms  the  fierce  passions  and  unruly  natures 
with  which  it  comes  in  contact. 

Said  Gen.  Jackson  to  a  young  lady  in  whose  wel- 
fare he  took  a  great  interest:  "I  cannot  forebear 
pointing  out  to  you,  my  dear  child,  the  great  advan- 
tages that  will  result  from  a  temperate  conduct  and 
sweetness  of  temper  to  all  people  on  all  occasions. 
Never  forget  that  you  are  a  gentlewoman,  and  let  your 
words  and  actions  make  you  gentle.  I  never  heard 
your  mother — your  dear  good  mother — say  a  harsh  or 
hasty  thing  in  my  life.  Endeavor  to  imitate  her.  I 
am  quick  and  hasty  in  temper,  but  it  is  a  misfortune 
which,  not  having  been  sufficiently  restrained  in  my 
youth,  has  caused  me  inexpressible  pain.  It  has  given 
me  more  trouble  to  subdue  this  impetuosity  than  any- 
thing else  I  ever  undertook.'" 

Some  one  has  remarked  that,  "  W e  have  not  fulfilled 
every  duty,  unless  we  have  fulfilled  that  of  being  pleas- 
ant.'1 Alas!  that  this  is  so  often  forgotten,  that  thous- 
ands of  homes  are  made  gloomy  and  repulsive  by  the  un- 
happy exhibitions  of  ill  temper,  from  a  nervous  and  over- 
worked mother,  or  a  well-meaning  but  irritable  father. 

Could  we  but  realize  that  it  is  a  duty  to  cultivate  a 
genial  disposition,  and  to  restrain  those  exhibitions  of 


86 


A  SUNNY  TEMPER. 


temper  which  we  thoughtlessly  display  from  mere  whim 
and  impulse,  how  much  unhappiness  would  be  prevent- 
ed, and  how  many  hearts  and  homes  made  happier. 

A  sunny  temper  is  also  conducive  to  health.  A 
medical  authority  of  highest  repute,  affirms  that  "  ex- 
cessive labor,  exposure  to  wet  and  cold,  deprivation  of 
sufficient  quantities  of  necessary  and  wholesome  food, 
habitual  bad  lodging,  sloth  and  intemperance  are  all 
deadly  enemies  to  human  life,  but  they  are  none  of 
them  so  bad  as  violent  and  ungoverned  passions, — that 
men  and  women  have  frequently  lived  to  an  advanced 
age  in  spite  of  these,  but  that  instances  are  very  rare 
where  people  of  irascible  tempers  live  to  extreme  old 
age."  As  the  possession  of  sound  health  is  one  of  the 
greatest  blessings  of  life,  it  is  the  highest  wisdom  to 
form  a  habit  of  looking  on  the  bright  side,  and  of 
meeting  the  manifold  vexations  and  annoyances  of 
daily  life  without  worry  and  friction. 

Blessed  is  the  child  whose  opening  years  and  first 
impressions  of  life  have  been  unfolded  in  an  atmosphere 
of  love.  Better  than  lordly  palace  with  all  the  adorn- 
ments which  limitless  wealth  can  procure,  or  esthetic 
taste  suggest,  if  love  be  lacking,  is  the  hovel  of  poverty 
if  a  sunny  temper,  like  an  angel  of  light,  illumines  its 
humble  surroundings. 

"  To  the  sunny  soul  that  is  full  of  hope 
And  whose  beautiful  trust  ne'er  faileth, 

The  skies  are  blue  and  the  fields  are  green, 
Tho1  the  wintry  storm  prevaileth. 


Be  ©anient. 


USKIN,  the  great  art  critic,  says,  "  People  are 
always  talking  of  perseverence,  and  courage, 
fey^so  and  fortitude;  but  patience  is  the  finest  and 
u  worthiest  part  of  fortitude,  and  the  rarest  too/' 

It  has  been  said  that  "impatience  acts  as  a  blight  on  a 
blossom ;  it  may  wound  the  budding  forth  of  the  noblest 
fruit;  relative  to  the  dispensations  of  Providence,  it  is 
ingratitude;  relative  to  our  own  purposes  and  attain- 
ments, it  will  be  found  to  impede  their  progress.' 1 

This  incident  has  been  related  of  Dr.  Arnold,  of 
Rugby :  He  once  lost  all  patience  with  a  dull  scholar, 
when  the  pupil  looked  up  in  his  face  and  said,  "  Why 
do  you  speak  angrily,  sir?  Indeed,  I  am  doing  the 
best  I  can.1"'  Years  after,  the  doctor  used  to  tell  the 
story  to  his  own  children,  and  say,  "  I  never  felt  so 
ashamed  of  myself  in  my  life.  That  look  and  that 
speech  I  have  never  forgotten." 

Said  one  of  the  wisest  and  best  educators  of  our  age, 
"If  I  only  had  one  word  to  speak  to  my  boys,  it  should 
be  patience,  patience,  patience;  over  and  over  again." 

The  results  of  patient  instruction  in  some  of  our  edu- 
cational institutions  are  amazing.  A  writer  in  a  popu- 
lar periodical,  thus  describes  some  of  the  methods 

employed  to  bring  about  these  results:    "Here  is  a 

87 


88 


BE  PATIENT. 


child  six  or  seven  years  old,  unable  to  walk,  stand,  talk, 
or  taste,  and  hardly  capable  of  noticing  what  happens 
around  her.  The  superintendent  of  an  institution  for  the 
instruction  of  idiots  takes  this  girl  and  spends  days  and 
weeks  and  months  teaching  her  to  stand  in  a  corner. 
After  five  months  constant  and  daily  labor  he  is 
rejoiced  to  see  that  she  has  moved,  of  her  own  accord, 
one  foot  a  half-inch  forward!  Therefore  this  patient 
teacher  announces  triumphantly  that  the  child  can  be 
cured.  And  she  is  cured,  for  in  time  she  becomes  one 
of  the  best  dancers  in  the  institution!  Besides  this,  her 
mind  and  body  improve  satisfactorily  in  other  respects. 
Now,  if  men  and  women  can  be  found  who  will  thus 
labor  and  toil  for  years,  with  unremitting  attention 
and  care  and  solicitude,  to  awaken  the  dormant  ener- 
gies of  poor  little  idiots,  who  at  first  give  about  as 
much  encouragement  to  their  teachers  as  might  be 
expected  from  a  lot  of  clams  or  oysters,  and  such  sur- 
prising and  happy  results  are  thereby  brought  about, 
what  might  not  be  expected  if  our  intelligent  and  sane 
children  were  treated  with  something  of  that  earnest, 
thoughtful,  untiring  care  which  these  poor  idiots 
receive."'1 

An  old  teacher  related  this  incident  from  his  own 
experience,  which  illustrates  what  patient  effort  will 
accomplish:  I  know  a  boy  who  was  preparing  to  enter 
the  Junior  class  of  the  New  York  University.  He 
was  studying  trigonometry,  and  I  gave  him  three 
examples  for  the  next  lesson.    The  following  day  he 


LE  PATIENT. 


89 


came  into  my  room  to  demonstrate  his  problems. 
Two  of  them  he  understood,  but  the  third — a  very 
difficult  one- — -he  had  not  performed.  I  said  to  him, 
"  Shall  I  help  you?  "  "  Xo,  sir.  I  can  and  will  do  it, 
if  you  give  me  time.*1  I  said,  "  I  will  give  you  all  the 
time  you  wish."  The  next  day  he  came  into  my 
room  to  recite  a  lesson  in  the  same  study.  "  Well, 
Simon,  have  you  worked  that  example?  ?'  "No,  sir,'1 
he  answered;  k*  but  I  can  and  will  do  it,  if  you  give  me 
a  little  more  time.'1  "  Certainly,  you  shall  have  all  the 
time  you  desire/1  I  always  like  these  boys  who  are 
determined  to  do  their  own  work,  for  they  make  pur 
best  scholars,  and  men  too.  The  third  morning  you 
should  have  seen  Simon  enter  my  room.  I  knew  he 
had  it,  for  his  whole  face  told  the  story  of  his  success. 
Yes,  he  had  it,  notwithstanding  it  had  cost  him  many 
hours  of  the  severest  mental  labor.  Xot  only  had  he 
solved  the  problem,  but,  what  was  of  infinitely  greater 
importance  to  him,  he  had  begun  to  develop  mathe- 
matical powers,  which,  under  the  inspiration  of  "I  can 
and  will,"  he  has  continued  to  cultivate,  until  to-day  he 
is  professor  of  mathematics  in  one  of  our  largest 
colleges,  and  one  of  the  ablest  mathematicians  of  his 
years  in  our  country. 

George  McDonald  gives  utterance  to  these  hopeful 
words:  "  I  record  the  conviction  that  in  one  way  or 
another,  special  individual  help  is  given  to  every  crea- 
ture to  endure  to  the  end.  It  has  been  my  own 
experience,  that  always  when  suffering,  whether  mental 


9o 


BE  PATIENT. 


or  bodily,  approached  the  point  where  further  endur- 
ance appeared  impossible,  the  pulse  of  it  began  to  ebb 
and  a  lull  ensued. 

You  are  tender-hearted,  and  you  want  to  be  true, 
and  are  trying  to  be  ;  learn  these  two  things :  Never 
be  discouraged  because  good  things  get  on  so  slowly 
here;  and  never  fail  daily  to  do  that  good  which  lies 
next  to  your  hand.  Do  not  be  in  a  hurry,  but  be  dil- 
igent. Enter  into  the  sublime  patience  of  the  Lord. 
Trust  to  God  to  weave  your  little  thread  into  the 
great  web,  though  the  pattern  shows  it  not  yet. 
When  God's  people  are  able  and  willing  thus  to  labor 
and  wait,  remember  that  one  day  is  with  the  Lord 
as  a  thousand  years,  and  a  thousand  years  as  one 
day;  the  grand  harvest  of  the  ages  shall  come  to  its 
reaping,  and  the  day  shall  broaden  itself  to  a  thousand 
years,  and  the  thousand  years  shall  show  themselves 
as  a  perfect  and  finished  day." 

One  of  the  great  hearts  of  the  earth  has  said:  uO, 
impatient  ones !  Did  the  leaves  say  nothing  to  you  as 
they  murmured  when  you  came  hither  to-day?  They 
were  not  created  this  spring,  but  months  ago;  and  the 
summer  just  begun,  will  fashion  others  for  another  year. 
At  the  bottom  of  every  leaf-stem  is  a  cradle,  and  in  it 
an  infant  germ;  and  the  winds  will  rock  it,  and  the 
birds  will  sing  to  it  all  summer  long;  and  next  year  it 
will  unfold.  So  God  is  working  for  you,  and  carrying- 
forward  to  the  perfect  development  all  the  processes  of 
your  lives." 


BE  PATIENT. 


91 


That  was  a  sublime  instance  of  patience  which  was 
displayed  in  the  career  of  the  renowned  Governor- 
General  of  India,  Warren  Hastings.  When  a  child, 
seven  rears  of  a°:e.  he  lar  beside  a  small  rivulet  which 
ran  through  the  estate  of  Daylesford. —  once  the  home 
of  his  ancestors.  He  made  a  resolution  to  recover  the 
estate,  and  passed  out  into  the  world.  He  became  a 
man.  went  to  India,  was  soldier,  financier,  and  legisla- 
tor, and  became  the  ruler  of  fifty  millions  of  people,  but 
amidst  all  his  cares,  and  toils,  and  successes,  he  was 
patiently  working  for  the  consummation  of  his  childish 
plan,  and  at  last  he  recorered  the  lost  estate,  and  in  his 
old  age  went  back  to  it  to  die. 

If  rou  are  roung,  and  the  mountain  of  knowledge 
seems  so  high  and  steep,  and  your  powers  so  weak  and 
unsteady,  be  patient.  "  Hearen  is  not  reached  by  a 
single  bound,"  and  only  step  by  step,  little  by  little, 
can  the  dazzling  heights  of  human  achierement  be 
attained. 

If  you  are  a  parent,  and  your  head  aches,  and  your 
nerves  tingle  with  the  boisterous  sports  of  your  irre- 
pressible brood,  be  patient.  Do  not  repress  their  inno- 
cent mirth,  or  silence  their  questionings  as  to  this  new. 
strange  world  which  they  have  entered.  Follow  the 
precept  of  a  wise  instructor:  k*  Bide  patiently  the  end- 
less questionings  of  your  children.  Do  not  roughlv 
crush  the  rising  spirit  of  free  inquirv  with  an  impatient 
word  or  frown,  nor  attempt,  on  the  contrarv,  a  long 
instructive   reply  to  every   casual  question.  Seek 


92 


BE  PATIENT. 


rather  to  deepen  their  curiosity.  Convert,  if  possible, 
the  careless  question  into  a  profound  and  earnest 
inquiry.  Let  your  reply  send  the  little  questioner 
forth,  not  so  much  proud  of  what  he  has  learned,  as 
anxious  to  know  more.  Happy,  thou,  if  in  giving 
your  child  the  molecule  of  truth  he  asks  for,  you  can 
whet  his  curiosity  with  a  glimpse  of  the  mountain  of 
truth,  lying  beyond ;  so  wilt  thou  send  forth  a  philos- 
opher, and  not  a  silly  pedant,  into  the  world." 

If  age  is  coming  upon  you  with  its  shadows,  and  as 
you  look  back  through  the  departed  years,  they  seem 
but  the  record  of  your  disappointed  hopes,  still  be 
patient.  Beecher  has  left  these  encouraging  words: 
"  If  you  have  failed  for  this  life,  do  not  fail  for  the 
other,  too.  There  is  very  much  that  may  yet  be  done 
in  the  afternoon  and  twilight  of  men's  lives,  if  they  are 
hopeful  and  active. " 

Angel  of  Patience!  sent  to  calm 
Our  feverish  brows  with  cooling  balm; 
To  lay  the  storms  of  hope  and  fear, 
And  reconcile  life's  smile  and  tear; 
The  throbs  of  wounded  pride  to  still 
And  make  our  own  our  Father's  will! 
O  thou  who  mournest  on  thy  way, 
With  longings  for  the  close  of  day ; 
He  walks  with  thee,  that  Angel  kind, 
And  gently  whispers,  "Be  resigned; 
Bear  ujd,  bear  on,  the  end  shall  tell 
The  dear  Lord  ordereth  all  things  well." 


Building  ©ha^agtce^. 


N  old  man,  full   of    honors,  having  held 
many  positions  of  trust  and  responsibility, 
said  to  a  young  man:  "  At  your  age  both 
position  and  wealth  appear  enduring  things ; 
but  at  mine,  a  man  sees  that  nothing  lasts  but  character." 

A  well-rounded  character  is  a  steady  growth,  the 
result  of  years  of  patient  well-doing.  Some  one  has 
thus  beautifully  described  the  process:  "  Did  you 
ever  watch  a  sculptor  slowly  fashioning  a  human  coun- 
tenance? It  is  not  moulded  at  once.  It  is  not  struck 
out  at  a  single  blow.  It  is  painfully  and  laboriously 
wrought.  It  is  a  work  of  time;  but  at  last  the  full 
likeness  comes  out,  and  stands  fixed  and  unchanging 
in  the  solid  marble.  So  does  a  man  carve  out  his  own 
moral  likeness.  Every  day  he  adds  something  to  the 
work.  A  thousands  acts  of  thought,  and  will  and  ef- 
fort shape  the  features  and  expressions  of  the  soul. 
Habits  of  love,  piety  and  truth,  habits  of  falsehood, 
passion  or  hatred,  silently  mould  and  fashion  it,  till 
at  length  it  wears  the  likeness  of  God,  or  the  image  of 
a  demon. " 

Several  years  ago  a  party  of  eminent  divines  at  a 
dinner  table  turned  their  conversation  on  the  qualities 
of  self-made  men.  They  each  admitted  that  they  be- 
longed to  that  class,  except  a  certain  bishop,  who  re- 


94 


BUILDING  CHARACTER. 


mained  silent,  and  was  intensely  absorbed  in  the  repast. 
The  host  was  determined  to  draw  him  out,  and  so, 
addressing  him,  said:  "All  at  this  table  are  self-made 
men,  unless  the  bishop  is  an  exception."  The  bishop 
promptly  replied,  "  I  am  not  made  yet,"  and  the  reply 
contained  a  profound  truth.  So  long  as  life  lasts,  with 
its  discipline  of  joy  or  sorrow,  its  opportunities  for 
good  or  evil,  so  long  our  characters  are  being  shaped 
and  fixed.  One  of  the  essentials  in  the  building  of  a 
good  character  is  to  cherish  noble  thoughts.  Milton 
said:  "  He  who  would  write  heroic  poems,  must  make 
his  whole  life  an  heroic  poem."  We  are  responsible 
for  our  thoughts,  and  unless  we  could  command  them, 
mental  and  moral  excellence  would  be  impossible. 
Said  James  Martineau:  "  God  insists  on  having  a  con- 
currence between  our  practice  and  our  thoughts.  If 
we  proceed  to  make  a  contradiction  between  them,  He 
forthwith  begins  to  abolish  it,  and  if  the  will  will  not  rise 
to  the  reason,  the  reason  must  be  degraded  to  the  will." 

Another  essential  element  in  building  a  good  char- 
acter is  an  intense  love  for  the  right.  Charles  Kingsley 
has  well  said:  "  Let  any  one  set  his  heart  to  do  what 
is  right  and  nothing  else,  and  it  will  not  be  long  ere 
his  brow  is  stamped  with  all  that  goes  to  make  up  the 
heroic  expression,  with  noble  indignation,  noble  self- 
restraint,  great  hopes,  great  sorrows,  perhaps  even  with 
the  print  of  the  martyr's  crown  of  thorns." 

Dean  Stanley  said,  speaking  to  a  crowd  of  children 
at  Westminster  Abbey :  4  I  knew  once  a  very  famous 
man,  who  lived  to  be  very  old — who  lived  to  be  eighty- 


BUILDING  CHARACTER. 


95 


eight.  He  was  always  the  delight  of  those  about  him. 
He  always  stood  up  for  what  was  right.  His  eve  was 
like  an  eagle's  when  it  flashed  Are  at  what  was  wrong. 
And  how  early  do  you  think  he  began  to  do  this  ?  I 
have  an  old  grammar  which  belonged  to  him.  all  tat- 
tered and  torn,  which  he  had  when  a  little  boy  at 
school,  and  what  do  you  think  I  found  written  in  his 
own  hand  on  the  very  first  page?  Why.  these  words: 
'  Still  in  thy  right  hand  earn'  gentle  peace,  to  silence 
vicious  tongues — be  just,  and  fear  not/  That  was  his 
rule  all  through  life,  and  he  was  loved  and  honored 
down  to  the  day  when  he  was  carried  to  his  grave." 

Said  Plato:  "Disregarding  the  honors  that  most 
men  value,  and  looking  to  the  truth.  I  shall  endeavor 
in  reality  to  live  as  virtuously  as  I  can.  and  when  I  die 
to  die  so.  And  I  invite  all  other  men  to  the  utmost  of 
my  power;  and  you  too  I  in  turn  invite  to  this  contest, 
which  I  affirm  surpasses  all  contests  here." 

That  was  a  grand  sentiment  uttered  by  Thomas 
Carlyle,  and  worth}'  to  be  the  watchword  of  ever}' 
earnest  life:  "  Let  him  who  gropes  painfully  in  dark- 
ness of  uncertain  light,  and  prays  vehemently  that  the 
dawn  may  ripen  into  da}',  lay  this  precept  well  to 
heart,  which  to  me  was  of  incalculable  service,  1  Do 
the  duty  which  lies  nearest  thee,  which  thou  knowest 
to  be  a  duty:  thy  second  duty  will  already  have  be- 
come clear.'  " 

When  Sir  Fowell  Buxton,  who  carried  through  the 
British  Parliament  the  bill  for  the  abolition  of  slavery 


96 


BUILDING  CHARACTER. 


throughout  the  British  dominions,  was  at  the  height 
of  his  philanthropic  career,  he  left  on  record  words 
worthy  to  be  treasured  in  every  aspiring  heart.  "  I 
thank  God,"  says  he,  "that  I  have  pursuits  in  life  so 
deeply  interesting  as  they  proceed,  and  so  full  of  prom- 
ise in  the  magnitude  of  their  results,  that  they  de- 
serve to  absorb  my  whole  being.  I  would  not  ex- 
change objects  in  life  with  any  living  man."  Contrast 
that  noble  spirit  with  that  of  Frederick  the  Great, 
who,  after  suffering  reverses  and  disappointments,  thus 
revealed  the  bitterness  of  his  heart,  in  spite  of  his 
boasted  philosophy:  "  It  is  hard  for  a  man  to  bear 
what  I  bear.  I  begin  to  feel,  as  the  Italians  say,  that 
revenge  is  a  pleasure  for  the  gods.  My  philosophy  is 
worn  out  by  suffering.  I  am  no  saint  like  those  wt 
read  of  in  the  legends,  and  I  will  own  that  I  should 
die  content  if  only  I  could  first  inflict  a  portion  of  the 
misery  which  I  endure." 

When  Handel,  the  great  composer,  was  thanked  by 
an  English  nobleman  for  the  entertainment  he  had  af- 
forded  the  people  by  his  new  oratorio,  "  The  Messiah," 
he  replied,  "  My  lord,  I  should  be  sorry  if  I  only  en- 
tertained them;  I  wish  to  make  them  better." 

That  was  a  noble  declaration  which  has  come  down 
to  us  through  the  centuries  from  Alfred  the  Great: 
"  I  have  striven  to  live  worthily,  and  left  it  on  record." 

To  build  a  good  character  requires  a  spirit  of  earn- 
estness. Said  Dr.  Arnold,  the  celebrated  instructor: 
"  I  feel  more  and  more  the  need  of  intercourse  with 


BUILDING  CHARACTER. 


97 


men  who  take  life  in  earnest.  It  is  painful  to  me  to 
be  always  on  the  surface  of  things.  Not  that  I  wish 
for  much  of  what  is  called  religious  conversation. 

CD 

That  is  often  apt  to  be  on  the  surface.  But  I  want  a 
sign  which  one  catches  by  a  sort  of  masonry,  that  a 
man  knows  what  he  is  about  in  life.  When  I  find  this 
it  opens  my  heart  with  as  fresh  a  sympathy  as  when  I 
was  twenty  years  younger.11 

On  this  subject  Carlyle  writes  these  earnest  words: 
(k  Thy  life,  wert  thou  the  pitifullest  of  all  the  sons  of 
earth,  is  no  idle  dream,  but  a  solemn  reality.  It  is 
thine  own!  it  is  all  thou  hast  to  front  eternity  with. 
Work  then  like  a  star,  unhasting  yet  unresting.11 

The  building  of  character  requires  also  manly  inde- 
pendence; the  determination  to  do  right  even  it  be 
unpopular.  It  requires  strength  of  character  to  face 
ridicule  and  contumely,  even  if  bidden  by  the  unre- 
lenting voices  of  conscience  and  duty. 

Sidney  Smith  emphasizes  this  truth  in  these  words: 
"  I  know  of  no  principle  which  it  is  of  more  import- 
ance to  fix  in  the  minds  of  young  people,  than  that  of 
the  most  determined  resistance  to  the  encroachments 
of  ridicule.  If  you  think  it  right  to  differ  with  the 
times,  and  to  make  a  stand  for  any  valuable  point  of 
morals  or  religion,  do  it,  however  rustic,  however  an- 
tiquated it  may  appear;  do  it,  not  for  insolence,  but 
seriously  and  grandly,  as  a  man  wears  a  soul  of  his 
own  in  his  own,  and  does  not  wait  until  it  shall  be 
breathed  into  him  by  the  breath  of  fashion." 


9S 


BUILDING  CHARACTER. 


Again,  to  build  character  requires  a  teachable  spirit, 
one  that  will  bear  reproof  if  in  the  wrong.  A  pro- 
found student  of  human  nature  observes:  "There  is 
perhaps  no  better  test  of  a  man's  real  strength  of 
character,  than  the  way  in  which  he  bears  himself  un 
der  just  reproof.  Every  man  makes  mistakes;  every 
man  commits  faults;  but  not  every  man  has  the 
honesty  and  meekness  to  acknowledge  his  errors  and 
to  welcome  the  criticism  which  points  them  out  to 
him.  It  is  rarely  difficult  for  us  to  find  an  excuse  for 
our  course,  if  it's  an  excuse  we  are  looking  for.  It  is, 
in  fact,  always  easier  to  spring  to  an  angry  defense  of 
ourselves  than  to  calmly  acknowledge  the  justice  of 
another's  righteous  condemnation  of  some  wrong  ac- 
tion of  ours;  but  to  refuse  to  adopt  this  latter  course, 
when  we  know  that  we  are  in  the  wrong,  is  to  reveal 
to  our  own  better  consciousness,  and  often  to  the  con- 
sciousness of  others,  an  essential  defect  in  our  charac- 
ter. He  is  strong  who  dares  confess  that  he  is 
weak;  he  is  already  tottering  to  a  fall  who  needs 
to  bolster  up  the  weakness  of  his  personality  by  all 
sorts  of  transparent  shams.  It  is  not  in  vain  that 
Scripture  says :  '  Reprove  one  that  hath  understand- 
ing, and  he  will  understand  knowledge;'  for  one  of  the 
best  evidences  of  the  possession  of  that  discreet  self- 
judgment  which  stands  at  the  basis  of  moral  strength, 
and  one  of  the  best  means  of  gaining  it  when  it  is  lack- 
ing, is  just  this  willingness  to  accept  merited  reproof, 
and  to  profit  by  it  when  accepted." 


BUILDING  CHARACTER. 


99 


One  of  the  most  brilliant  intellects  of  this  century 
has  given  this  masterly  exposition  of  the  true  strength 
of  character:  "  Strength  of  character  consists  of  two 
things;  power  of  will  and  power  of  self-restraint.  It 
requires  two  things,  therefore,  for  its  existence;  strong 
feelings  and  strong  command  over  them.  Now,  it  is 
here  we  make  a  great  mistake;  we  mistake  strong 
feelings  for  strong  character.  A  man  who  bears  all 
before  him,  before  whose  frown,  domestics  tremble, 
and  whose  bursts  of  fury  make  the  children  of  the 
household  quake,  because  he  has  his  will  obeyed  and 
his  own  way  in  all  things,  we  call  him  a  strong  man. 
The  truth  is,  that  is  the  weak  man;  it  is  his  passions 
that  are  strong;  he,  mastered  by  them,  is  weak.  You 
must  measure  the  strength  of  a  man  by  the  power  of 
the  feelings  he  subdues,  not  by  the  power  of  those  which 
subdue  him.  And  hence  composure  is  very  often  the 
highest  result  of  strength.  Did  we  never  see  a  man 
receive  a  flagrant  insult,  and  only  grow  a  little  pale 
and  then  reply  quietly?  That  was  a  man  spiritually 
strong.  Or  did  we  never  see  a  man  in  anguish,  stand 
as  if  carved  out  of  solid  rock,  mastering  himself?  Or 
one  bearing  a  hopeless  daily  trial  remain  silent  and 
never  tell  the  world  what  cankered  his  home-peace? 
That  is  strength.  He  who  with  strong  passions  re- 
mains chaste;  he  who,  keenly  sensitive,  with  manly 
power  of  indignation  in  him,  can  be  provoked,  and  yet 
restrain  himself  and  forgive — these  are  the  strong  men, 
the  spiritual  heroes." 


O^hat  Reading  QJill  Do. 


O  for  a  Booke  and  a  shadie  nooke, 

eyther  in-a-door  or  out; 
With  the  grene  leaves  whisp'ring  overhede, 

or  the  Streete  cryes  all  about. 
Where  I  maie  Reade  all  at  my  ease, 

both  of  the  Newe  and  Olde; 
For  a  jollie  goode  Booke  whereon  to  looke, 

is  better  to  me  than  Golde. 

—  Old  English  Song. 


HE  habit  of  reading  good  books  affords  one  of 
the  greatest  enjoyments  of  life.  By  reading, 
j^M  we  can  transcend  time  and  space,  and  bring 
before  us  in  review,  the  peoples  and  dynasties  of  the 
misty  past. 

We  can  summon  before  us  their  great  men,  we  can 
listen  to  their  words  of  wisdom,  and  learn  the  story  of 
the  achievements  which  made  them  immortal.  Says 
an  eloquent  writer:  u  I  go  into  my  library,  and,  like 
some  great  panorama,  all  history  unrolls  before  me;  I 
breathe  the  morning  air  of  the  world,  while  the  scent 
of  Eden's  roses  lingers  in  it.  I  see  the  pyramids 
building.  I  hear  Memnon  murmur  as  the  first  morn- 
ing sun  touches  him.  I  see  the  Sphinx  when  she  first 
began  to  ask  her  eternal  question.  I  sit  as  in  a  thea- 
ter; the  stage  is  time,  the  play  is  the  play  of  the  world. 

ioo 


WHAT  READING  WILL  DO. 


IOI 


What  a  spectacle  it  is!  What  kingly  pomp!  What 
processions  pass  by!  What  cities  burn  to  heaven! 
What  crowds  of  captives  are  dragged  at  the  wheels  of 
conquerors!  Across  the  brawling  centuries  of  blood 
and  war  that  lie  between,  I  can  hear  the  bleating  of 
Abraham's  sheep,  the  tinkling  of  the  bells  of  Rebekah's 
camels.  O  men  and  women,  so  far  separated,  yet  so 
near,  so  strange,  yet  so  well  known,  by  what  miracu- 
lous power  do  I  know  you  all?  What  king's  court  can 
boast  such  company?  What  school  of  philosophy 
such  wisdom?  All  the  wit  of  all  the  world  is  glanc- 
ing and  floating  there.  There  is  Pan's  pipe,  there  are 
the  songs  of  Apollo.  Sitting  in  my  library  at  night, 
and  looking  in  the  silent  faces  of  my  books,  *I  am  oc- 
casionally visited  by  a  strange  sense  of  the  super- 
natural. They  are  not  collections  of  printed  pages, 
they  are  ghosts.  I  take  one  down,  and  it  immediately 
speaks  with  me, — it  may  be  in  a  tongue  not  now  heard 
on  earth,  it  may  be  of  men  and  things  of  which  it 
alone  possesses  knowledge. 

I  call  myself  a  solitary,  but  sometimes  I  think  I  mis- 
apply the  term. 

No  man  sees  more  company  than  I  do.  I  travel 
with  mightier  cohorts  around  me  than  ever  did 
Tamerlane  or  Genghis-Khan  in  their  fiery  marches. 
I  am  a  sovereign  in  my  library,  but  it  is  the  dead,  not 
the  living,  that  attend  my  levees." 

Said  the  accomplished  Madame  de  Genlis,  one  of  the 
most  brilliant  literary  celebrities  in  her  day :  "  How 
I  pity  those  who  have  no  love  of  reading,  of  study  or 


102 


WHAT  READING  WILL  DO. 


of  the  fine  arts.  I  have  passed  my  youth  amidst 
amusements  and  in  the  most  brilliant  society,  but  yet 
I  can  assert  with  perfect  truth,  that  I  have  never  tasted 
pleasures  so  true  as  those  I  have  found  in  the  study  of 
books,  in  writing  and  in  music.  The  days  that  suc- 
ceed brilliant  entertainments  are  always  melancholy; 
but  those  which  follow  days  of  study  are  delicious:  we 
have  gained  something;  we  have  acquired  some  knowl- 
edge, and  well  recall  the  past  days,  not  with  disgust 
and  regret,  but  with  consummate  satisfaction." 

Rufus  Choate,  who  had  an  extraordinary  attachment 
to  books,  and  almost  lived  amongst  them,  once  said  in 
an  address:  "  Happy  is  he  who  laid  up  in  his  youth, 
and  held  steadfast  in  all  fortunes,  a  genuine  and  pas- 
sionate love  of  reading,  the  true  balm  of  hurt  minds, 
of  surer  and  more  healthful  charms  than  poppy  or 
mandragora  or  all  the  drowsy  syrups  in  the  world."'1 

With  books  we  can,  by  a  single  bound,  leave  the 
cares  and  anxieties  of  daily  life,  and  be  in  the  peaceful 
realm  of  delightful  study. 

No  matter  what  may  be  our  condition — without 
wealth,  without  social  standing,  with  rude  surroundings 
and  with  poverty  at  the  threshold,  we  can  call  to  us 
the  most  gifted  and  illustrious  of  all  ages.  At  our  bid- 
ding Milton  will  come  and  sing  to  us,  Shakespeare  will 
disclose  the  world's  imagination  and  the  inner  work- 
ings of  the  human  heart,  Demosthenes,  Webster  and 
Burke  will  repeat  again  the  sonorous  measures  of  their 
incomparable  eloquence. 

Lord  Bacon,  one  of  the  intellectual  giants  of  the 


WHAT  READING  WILL  DO. 


103 


world,  thus  places  his  estimate  on  what  reading  will  do : 
"  Reading  serves  for  delight,  for  ornament,  and  for 
ability.  The  crafty  contemn  it;  the  simple  admire  it; 
the  wise  use  it.  Reading  makes  a  full  man ;  conference, 
a  ready  man;  and  writing,  an  exact  man.  He  that 
writes  little,  needs  a  great  memory;  he  that  confers 
little,  a  present  wit ;  and  he  that  reads  little,  much  cun- 
ning to  seem  to  know  that  which  he  does  not." 

Said  that  great  astronomer,  Sir  John  Herschel: 
"  Were  I  to  pray  for  a  taste  which  should  stand  me 
in  stead  under  every  variety  of  circumstances,  and  be 
a  source  of  happiness  and  cheerfulness  to  me  dur- 
ing life,  and  a  shield  against  its  ills,  however  things 
might  go  amiss,  and  the  world  frown  upon  me, 
it  would  be  a  taste  for  reading.  Give  a  man  this 
taste,  and  the  means  of  gratifying  it,  and  you  can 
hardly  fail  of  making  him  a  happy  man;  unless,  indeed, 
you  put  into  his  hands  a  most  perverse  selection  of 
books.  You  place  him  in  contact  with  the  best  society 
in  every  period  of  history — with  the  wisest,  the 
wittiest,  the  tenderest,  the  bravest  and  the  purest 
characters  who  have  adorned  humanity.  You  make 
him  a  denizen  of  all  nations,  a  contemporary  of  all  ages". 
The  world  has  been  created  for  him!"  Goldsmith 
said:  "  The  first  time  I  read  an  excellent  book,  it  is 
just  to  me  as  if  I  had  gained  a  new  friend.  When  I 
read  over  a  book  I  have  perused  before,  it  resembles 
the  meeting  with  an  old  one.7' 

But  reading  can  not  only  bring  to- us  the  best  company, 


104 


WHAT  LLAULXJ  WILL  DO. 


but  it  can  fill  us  with  great  thoughts ;  it  can  inspire  us 
with  noble  aspirations,  and  it  can  give  a  bent  to  the  mind 
which  will  mould  the  whole  life  and  exert  an  influence  on 
us  forever.  Many  a  career  has  been  shaped  by  reading. 
When  Benjamin  Franklin  was  a  boy,  part  of  a  little 
book  called  "  Essays  to  do  Good,'''  by  Cotton  Mather, 
fell  into  his  hands,  and  he  says:  "  It  gave  me  such  a 
turn  of  thinking  as  to  have  an  influence  on  my  conduct 
through  life,  for  I  have  always  set  a  greater  value  on 
the  character  of  a  doer  of  good,  than  any  other  kind 
of  reputation;  and  if  I  have  been  a  useful  citizen,  the 
public  owes  all  the  advantages  of  it  to  that  little  book."" 
William  Chambers,  one  of  the  famous  publishers  of 
Edinburgh,  who  did  so  much  to  bring  literature  within 
the  reach  of  the  people,  and  brought  to  himself  a  repu- 
tation by  doing  so,  attributed  a  great  measure  of  his 
success  to  his  love  for,  and  study  of,  good  books,  in  his 
early  life.  He  said  in  a  public  address:  "  I  stand  be- 
fore you  a  self-educated  man.  My  education  was  that 
which  is  supplied  by  the  humble  parish  schools  of 
Scotland,  and  it  was  only  when  I  went  to  Edinburgh, 
a  poor  boy,  that  I  devoted  my  evenings,  after  the  labors 
of  the  day,  to  the  cultivation  of  that  intellect  that  the 
Almighty  has  given  me.  From  seven  to  ten  in  the  morn- 
ing to  nine  or  ten  at  night,  I  was  at  my  business 
as  a  bookseller^  apprentice,  and  it  was  only  in  hours 
after  these  that  I  could  devote  myself  to  study.  I  as- 
sure you  I  did  not  read  novels;  my  attention  was  de- 
voted to  physical  science." 


WHAT  READING  WILL  DO. 


I05 


The  young  aspirations  of  John  Wesley  were  directed 
by  reading  Thomas  a  Kempis7  u  Imitation  of  Christ.11 

Jeremy  Bentham  mentions  that  the  current  of  his 
thoughts  and  studies  on  political  economy  was  directed 
through  life  by  a  single  phrase  that  caught  his  eye  at 
the  end  of  a  pamphlet:  "  The  greatest  good  of  the 
greatest  number." 

On  the  other  hand,  the  influence  of  bad  books  has 
swrept  countless  numbers  to  destruction.  From  be- 
hind prison  bars,  and  from  the  gallows,  have  come  in- 
numerable confessions  that  pernicious  books  were  the 
causes  which  led  to  an  evil  and  abandoned  life. 

An  officer  of  the  British  government,  who  made  the 
matter  a  study,  declares  that  nearly  all  the  boys 
brought  before  criminal  courts,  may.  largely  ascribe 
their  downfall  to  impure  reading.  And  even  when  the 
morals  remain  uncontaminated,  how  reading  can  per- 
vert the  judgment  and  instill  poisonous  sentiments 
which  will  darken  the  life  and  destroy  one7s  usefulness 
ever  after. 

It  is  said  that  Voltaire,  when  young,  committed  an 
infidel  poem  to  memory,  and  the  sentiment  colored  his 
whole  after  life. 

David  Hume,  when  a  boy,  was  a  believer  in  the 
Scriptures,  but  in  studying  the  works  of  infidels  to 
prepare  for  a  debate,  the  seeds  of  doubt  were  sown 
which  ripened  into  avowed  infidelity. 

William  Wilberforce,  the  noble  philanthropist  and 
statesman,  when  3-oung  had  the  curiosity  to  read  an 


io6 


WHAT  READING  WILL  DO. 


infidel  book,  and  when  he  had  partly  read  it,  he  cast  it 
away,  in  terror  of  its  insidious  influence,  for  he  noticed 
that  although  he  detected  its  sophistries,  his  mind  was 
entangled  and  hurt. 

But  if  we  confine  our  choice  to  good  books,  a  love  of 
reading  will  yield  us  the  most  unalloyed  pleasure. 

Said  Milton:  "A  good  book  is  the  precious  life 
blood  of  a  master  spirit  embalmed  and  treasured  up  to 
a  life  beyond  life/'  and  Martain  Farquhar  Tupper  has 
somewhere  said:  "A  good  book  is  the  best  of 
friends — the  same  to-day  and  forever."  Friends  may 
fail  us,  prosperity  may  vanish,  care  and  trouble  may 
come  like  an  overwhelming  flood, — age  may  advance 
and  we  be  left  in  solitude,  but  the  pleasure  derived 
from  books  will  survive  all,  and  prove  a  most  welcome 
and  ready  consolation.  Washington  Irving  has  writ- 
ten: u  When  all  that  is  worldly  turns  to  dross  around 
us,  books  only  retain  their  steady  value.  When 
friends  grow  cold,  and  the  converse  of  intimates  lan- 
guishes into  vapid  civility  and  commonplace,  these  only 
continue  the  unaltered  countenance  of  better  days,  and 
cheer  us  with  that  true  friendship  which  never  de- 
ceived hope,  nor  deserted  sorrow."  Reading  can  thus 
shape  a  career,  adorn  a  life,  and  assuage  care  and 
grief.  It  can  take  the  place  of  friends  and  society,  and 
lead  us  to  the  companionship  of  the  good  and  great  of 
all  ages.  Cultivate,  then,  this  great  gift,  carefully, 
wisely  and  systematically,  and  it  will  yield  you  a  rich 
harvest  of  invaluable  instruction  and  abiding  pleasure. 


Wkaw  mo  I^EAD. 


The  true  university  of  these  days  is  a  collection  of  books. 

—  Carlyle. 


^^^EoME  one  has  said,  kt  The  art  of  reading  is  to 
skip  judiciously.11  The  number  of  books  is 
legion,  and  even  a  whole  life-time  would  be 
too  short  to  master  more  than  a  small  proportion  of 
them.  When  we  consider  that  most  persons  can  de- 
vote only  the  moments  of  leisure,  or  the  scraps  of  time 
snatched  from  sleep  or  from  their  daily  toil,  how  im- 
portant it  is  that  the  few  books  which  can  be  read, 
should  be  of  sterling  worth,  and  should  contain  food 
for  thought  which  will  stimulate  the  mind  and  enrich 
the  character.11  The  words  of  that  eminent  man.  Sir 
William  Hamilton,  cannot  be  too  well  considered: 
"  Read  much,  but  not  many  works.  For  what  pur- 
pose, with  what  intent  do  we  read?  We  read  not  for 
the  sake  of  reading,  but  we  read  to  the  end  that  we 
may  think.  Reading  is  valuable  only  as  it  may  sup- 
ply the  materials  which  the  mind  itself  elaborates.  As 
it  is  not  the  largest  quantity  of  an}"  kind  of  food  taken 
into  the  stomach  that  conduces  to  health,  but  such  a 
quantity  of  such  a  kind  as  can  be  best  digested ;  so  it 

107 


io8 


WHAT  TO  READ. 


is  not  the  greatest  complement  of  any  kind  of  informa- 
tion that  improves  the  mind,  but  such  a  quantity  of 
such  a  kind  as  determines  the  intellect  to  most  vigfor- 
ous  energy.  The  only  profitable  kind  of  reading  is 
that  in  which  we  are  compelled  to  think,  and  think  in- 
tensely; whereas,  that  reading  which  serves  only  to 
dissipate  and  divert  our  thoughts  is  either  positively 
hurtful,  or  useful  only  as  an  occasional  relaxation  from 
severe  exertion.  But  the  amount  of  vigorous  thinking 
is  usually  in  the  inverse  ratio  to  multifarious  reading." 
Prof.  Blackie,  of  Edinburgh  University,  gives  most 
excellent  advice  on  this  subject:  "  Keep  in  mind,7'  he 
says,  "  that  though  the  library  shelves  groan  with 
books,  whose  name  is  legion,  there  are  in  each  depart- 
ment only  a  few  great  books,  in  relation  to  which 
others  are  but  auxiliary,  or  it  may  be  sometimes  para- 
sitical, and,  like  the  ivy,  doing  harm  rather  than  good 
to  the  pole  round  which  they  cling.  Stick,  therefore, 
to  the  great  books,  the  original  books,  the  fountain 
heads  of  great  ideas  and  noble  passions,  and  you  will 
learn  joyfully  to  dispense  with  the  volumes  of  accessory 
talk  by  which  their  virtue  has  been  as  frequently  ob- 
scured as  illuminated.7 ' 

A  wise  man  adds:  "  It  would  have  been  better,  in 
my  opinion,  for  the  world  and  for  science,  if,  instead 
of  the  multitude  of  books  which  now  overlay  us,  we 
possessed  but  a  few  works,  good  and  sterling,  and 
which,  as  few,  would  be  therefore  more  diligently  and 
profoundly  studied." 


WHAT  TO  READ. 


Bulwer,  who  had  a  great  knowledge  of  books,  gives 
this  suggestion:  "  In  science,  read,  by  preference,  the 
newest  works;  in  literature,  the  oldest.  The  classic 
literature  is  always  modern.  New  books  revive  and 
re-decorate  old  ideas;  old  books  suggest  and  invigor- 
ate new  ideas.1,1 

And  yet  it  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  while  the  ad- 
vice of  these  great  men  is  eminently  sound,  and  cannot 
be  too  closely  followed  by  mature  readers,  yet  it  is 
necessary  with  many  young  people  to  first  awaken  a 
taste  and  love  for  reading  in  order  to  cultivate  the 
habit.  With  such  it  is  necessary  often  to  begin  with 
popular  tales  and  works  of  fiction,  but  these  can  be 
selected  so  as  to  awaken  an  appetite  for  more  substan- 
tial works.  Much  of  the  best  literary  talent  of  the  age 
has  been  engaged  in  popularizing  and  presenting,  in  a 
fascinating  style,  history,  science,  incidents  of  travel, 
and  the  lives  of  great  men,  bringing  all  within  the 
grasp  of  the  child's  mind,  and  making  these  subjects  as 
interesting  as  the  fairy  tales  of  the  old  story  books. 
With  such  books  a  love  of  reading  can  be  created,  and 
they  will  prove  a  pleasing  introduction  to  the  study  of 
the  great  master-pieces  in  literature. 

But,  perhaps,  the  greatest  danger  to  be  avoided  in 
the  selection  of  books,  is  the  undue  importance  given 
to  works  of  fiction.  Novels,  like  an  army  of  locusts, 
penetrate  everywhere,  and  with  thousands  they  dis- 
place entirely  the  study  of  all  higher  forms  of  litera- 
ture.   As  they  are  often  written  to  sell,  without  any 


no 


WHAT  TO  READ. 


moral  object  in  view,  they  pander  to  unworthy  tastes 
and  base  passions,  and  have  a  corrupting  influence 
wherever  they  go. 

A  gifted  divine,  in  speaking  of  novels,  said:  "  The 
ten  plagues  have  visited  our  literature ;  water  is  turned 
into  blood;  frogs  and  lice  creep  and  hop  over  our 
most  familiar  things, — the  couch,  the  cradle  and  the 
bread-trough;  locusts,  murrain  and  fire  are  smiting 
every  green  thing.  I  am  ashamed  and  outraged  when 
I  think  that  wretches  could  be  found  to  open  these 
foreign  seals,  and  let  out  their  plagues  upon  us;  that 
any  satanic  pilgrim  should  voyage  to  France  to  dip 
from  the  Dead  Sea  of  her  abominations  a  baptism  for 
our  sons." 

Goldsmith,  himself  a  novel-writer,  said:  "  Above 
all,  never  let  your  son  touch  a  novel  or  romance.  How 
delusive,  how  destructive,  are  these  pictures  of  con- 
summate bliss !  They  teach  the  youthful  mind  to  sigh 
after  beauty  and  happiness  that  never  existed,  to  des- 
pise the  little  good  that  Fortune  has  mixed  in  our  cup, 
by  expecting  more  than  she  ever  gave." 

George  Augustus  Sala  has  thus  depicted  the  evils  of 
novel  reading  on  girls,  and  the  effect  on  boys  is  equally 
pernicious:  "  Girls  learn  from  such  books  to  think 
boldly  and  coarsely  about  lovers  and  marrying;  their 
early  modesty  is  effaced  by  the  craving  for  admiration; 
their  warm  affections  are  silenced  by  the  desire  for 
selfish  triumphs ;  they  lose  the  fresh  and  honest  feel- 
ings of  youth  while  they  are  yet  scarcely  developed; 


WHAT  TO  READ. 


they  pass  with  sad  rapidity  from  their  early  visions 
of  Tancred  and  Orlando  to  notions  of  good  connections, 
establishments,  excellent  matches,  etc..  and  yet  they 
think,  and  their  mammas  think,  that  they  are  only  ad- 
vancing in  •  prudence  '  and  knowledge  of  the  world — 
that  bad.  contaminating  knowledge  of  the  world 
which  I  sometimes  imagine  must  have  been  the  very 
apple  that  Eve  plucked  from  the  forbidden  tree.  Alas, 
when  once  tasted,  the  garden  of  life  is  an  innocent  and 
happy  Paradise  no  more." 

If  a  person  is  fed  on  sweetmeats  and  highly  seasoned 
food  he  soon  loses  his  appetite  for  plain  wholesome 
diet  :  and  so  with  the  mind.  When  the  imagination  is 
excited  by  highly  colored  pictures  of  wonderful  char- 
acters, and  marvelous  combinations  of  circumstances, 
the  mind  rejects  the  plain  and  wholesome  nutri- 
ment of  solid  reading.  Dr.  Francis  Wayland,  the 
eminent  professor  on  moral  philosophy,  relates  of  him- 
self how-,  when  about  eighteen  years  of  age,  his  taste 
for  reading  was  completely  changed.  Before  that 
time  he  had  devoured  novels,  stories,  travels  and  ad- 
ventures, and  wondered  how  people  could  take  so 
much  pleasure  in  didactic  essays  and  become  so  much 
charmed  with  what  they  called  "  the  beauty  of  the 
style."  One  day  he  happened  to  take  up  a  volume  of 
the  "  Spectator"  and  read  one  of  Addison's  papers  on 
Milton.  He  enjoyed  it.  and  found  he  understood  it 
perfectly.  He  turned  to  other  papers  of  like  charac- 
acter,  and  from  that  time  enjoyed  solid  and  instructive 


112 


WHAT  TO  READ. 


books,  lost  his  relish  for  novels,  in  which  he  had  de- 
lighted before,  and  scarcely  read  one  afterwards. 

As  we  unconsciously  become  like  the  company  we 
associate  with,  so  we  grow  like  the  books  we 
read.  Bishop  Potter  said:  "It  is  nearly  an  axiom 
that  people  will  not  be  better  than  the  books  they 
read,"  and  we  safely  judge  of  a  person's  tastes  and 
character  by  inspecting  his  library.  An  old  writer 
applies  this  wise  rule  to  the  worth  of  books:  "  Where 
a  book  raises  your  spirit  and  inspires  you  with  noble 
and  courageous  feelings,  seek  for  no  other  rule  to 
judge  the  event  by;  it  is  good,  and  made  by  a  good 
workman.11  How  important,  then,  that  our  selections 
be  carefully  made.  "  Knowledge  <of  books  in  a  man 
of  business,11  said  Addison,  "  is  a  torch  in  the  hands 
of  one  who  is  willing  and  able  to  show  those  who  are 
bewildered,  the  way  which  leads  to  prosperity  and 
welfare.11 

A  successful  business  man  who  had  risen  to  con- 
siderable distinction,  in  addressing  the  young  men  in 
the  retail  dry  goods  trade  in  Boston,  gave  them  this 
excellent  advice:  "  I  advise  you  to  read  the  best 
literature  and  commit  to  memory  and  treasure  up  its 
choicest  passages.  Daniel  Webster  said  that  he  ac- 
quired the  power  of  expressing  his  ideas  in  the  fewest 
words  by  reading  the  Bible.  With  your  other  read- 
ing, peruse  this  book,  not  only  for  its  literary  value, 
but  because  it  teaches  men  the  best  and  surest  road  to 
business  success,  and  also  the  way  of  eternal  life." 


WHAT  TO  READ. 


113 


Sir  William  Jones,  who  had  a  knowledge  of  twenty- 
eight  different  languages,  and  was  one  of  the  greatest 
scholars  of  any  age  or  country,  thus  spoke  of  the 
Bible:  "I  have  carefully  and  regularly  perused  the 
Scriptures,  and  am  of  opinion  that  this  volume,  in- 
dependent of  its  divine  origin,  contains  more  sublimity, 
purer  morality,  more  important  history,  and  finer 
strains  of  eloquence  than  can  be  obtained  from  all 
other  books,  in  whatever  language  written."  Read 
the  standard  English  poets,  and  if  you  can  appreciate 
them  thev  will  yield  you  infinite  delight.    Poetry  re- 

J  J  J  O  J 

fines  the  mind,  cultivates  the  imagination,  purifies 
the  affections,  exalts  the  character,  improves  the 
language,  and  enriches  us  with  the  most  exquisite 
illustrations  and  imagery,  and  the  noblest  conceptions 
of  human  reason  and  fancy.  A  college  professor  re- 
marked, that  "  no  young  man  or  woman  was  fit  for 
life  until  familiar  with  Emerson's  essays  on  1  Behavior 
and  Social  Aims.  ■  "  There  is  something  intensely 
stimulating  and  helpful  in  reading  well  written  biog- 
raphies of  great  and  useful  men,  and  many  a  noble 
life  has  been  shaped  in  this  manner.  Read  the  ac- 
knowledged masters  of  thought  in  their  respective 
fields  of  inquiry,  and  soon  your  mind  will  be  so  strong 
and  active  that  it  will  require  strong  food,  and  will  be 
sickened  at  the  worthless  trash  with  which  the  land  is 
flooded.  To  a  person  who  would  be  well-informed,  it 
has  become  a  necessity  to  be  somewhat  familiar  with 
the  current  events  of  the  day,  and  for  this,  too  much 


ii4 


WHAT  TO  READ. 


can  hardly  be  said  in  favor  of  a  good  weekly  religious 
newspaper  in  the  home.  Most  of  these,  to  their  credit 
be  it  said,  are  edited  by  able,  conscientious  and  pro- 
gressive men,  who  bring  to  them  the  choicest  fruits  of 
their  varied  learning,  sound  wisdom,  and  high  moral 
principle. 

The  chief  events  transpiring  in  the  world  are  pre- 
sented briefly,  well-considered  articles  appear  on  the 
vital  questions  of  the  day,  careful  reviews  of  new 
books  are  given  to  guide  the  reader  to  the  best  read- 
ing, and  choice  selections  from  the  best  literature  are 
made  with  fine  discrimination. 

The  influence  for  good  which  such  a  periodical 
exerts  upon  family  life  and  individual  character  cannot 
be  overestimated.  It  is  one  of  the  choicest  products 
of  our  modern  civilization,  and  is  doing  noble  work  in 
its  mission  to  elevate  and  improve  mankind,  both  in 
respect  to  intellectual  quickening,  and  the  develop- 
ment of  moral  and  religious  principle. 


F?OW  TCO  I^BAD. 


HERE  are  thousands  of  people  who  read  in 
quantity,  an  amount  of  matter  which  is  simply 
appalling,  but  add  little  to  their  stock  of  gen- 
eral knowledge,  and  nothing  to  their  strength 
and  discipline  of  mind.  A  man  might  as  well  be 
expected  to  grow  stronger  by  always  eating,  as  by 
always  reading.  When  one  reads  merely  to  pass  time, 
to  be  amused,  or  for  the  purpose  of  passively  exciting 
the  emotions,  the  mind  becomes  like  a  sieve, — whatever 
is  put  in,  speedily  passes  through,  and  hardly  a  trace 
remains.  A  succession  of  characters  and  incidents  flit 
before  the  mind;  are  perceived  for  a  moment,  and  then 
pass  away,  never  more  to  return.  How  many  omniv- 
orous readers,  in  a  year  after  reading  a  book,  not  only 
fail  to  remember  the  barest  outline  of  its  contents,  but 
even  its  title;  and  many  would  not  be  quite  sure 
whether  they  had  read  it  at  all.  Such  reading  is  a 
positive  injury  to  the  mind,  for  it  so  fritters  away  its 
energies,  that  it  becomes  incapable  of  concentrating  its 
powers  for  any  length  of  time  upon  any  subject  that 
requires  close  attention  and  sound  thinking.  It  is  only 
what  we  remember  and  assimilate,  so  that  it  becomes 
a  part  of  us,  that  is  of  real  value.    One  great  fault 

115 


u6 


HOW  TO  READ. 


in  reading  is,  that  we  read  too  hastily,  and  so  the 
memory  is  overtaxed,  until  it  loses  its  power. 

Mrs.  Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning,  whose  transcend- 
ent genius  entitled  her  to  be  ranked  as  one  of  the  most 
gifted  and  brilliant  women  of  any  age  or  country,  thus 
wrote  in  a  letter  to  a  friend:  "We  generally  err  by 
reading  too  much,  and  out  of  proportion  to  what  we 
think.  I  should  be  wiser,  I  am  persuaded,  if  I  had  not 
read  half  as  much, —  should  have  had  stronger  and 
better  exercised  faculties,  and  should  stand  higher  in 
my  own  appreciation.  The  fact  is,  that  the  ne  plus 
ultra  of  intellectual  indolence,  is  this  reading  of  books.1' 
F.  W.  Robertson,  the  English  divine,  who  had  one  of  the 
brightest  intellects  and  most  finely  disciplined  minds  of 
his  age,  said  in  regard  to  the  manner  in  which  he  read, 
"I  know  what  reading  is;  for  I  could  read  once,  and 
did.  I  read  hard,  or  not  at  all;  never  skimming,  never 
turning  aside  to  merely  inviting  books;  and  Plato, 
Aristotle,  Butler,  Thucydides,  Sterne,  Jonathan  Ed 
wards,  have  passed,  like  the  iron  atoms  of  the  blood, 
into  my  mental  constitution."  He  said  that  it  would 
take  him  six  months  to  read  a  small  octavo  on  chemis- 
try, and  doubtless  the  discipline  which  came  from  this 
way  of  reading,  was  one  of  the  secrets  of  his  wonderful 
intellectual  power.  It  is  said  that  Miss  Martineau  read 
only  a  page  in  an  hour.  Edmund  Burke  always  so  read 
a  book  as  to  make  it  his  own, — a  possession  for  life. 

One  of  the  greatest  modern  jurists  was  asked  how 
he  acquired  so  profound  and  comprehensive  a  knowl- 


HOW  TO  READ. 


11/ 


edge  of  the  law.  He  replied,  that  when  he  began  to 
study,  he  made  it  a  rule  to  read  but  little,  but  to 
understand  thoroughly  everything  he  passed  over,  and 
never  to  leave  a  subject  or  a  point  until  he  had  com- 
pletely mastered  it. 

Another  indispensable  condition  of  profitable  reading, 
is  to  read  systematically.  Rufus  Choate  said  that 
desultory  reading  was  a  waste  of  life.  In  reading,  as 
in  everything  else,  nothing  can  be  accomplished  to 
much  purpose  without  system.  To  read  volumes  here 
and  there,  on  every  conceivable  subject,  without  order 
or  discrimination,  is  only  to  accumulate  in  the  mind  a 
blurred,  undistinguishable  mass  of  half-digested  mate- 
rial, too  ill-assorted  and  indefinite  for  use.  It  is  well  to 
make  an  outline  of  the  course  of  reading  you  wish  to 
pursue;  by  a  little  inquiry  and  care  you  can  easily 
ascertain  the  best  works  on  each  particular  subject; 
select  such  of  these  as  time  and  convenience  will 
allow,  and  while  the  subject  is  in  hand  follow  it,  trace 
it  out,  examine  it  consecutively  from  beginning  to  end, 
and  your  mind  will  then  have  a  clear  and  comprehensive 
mastery  of  it.  It  is  an  excellent  exercise,  after  reading 
a  chapter,  to  close  the  book  and  state,  in  your  own 
language,  its  contents,  and  thus  fix  it  in  the  memory. 
If  you  can  not  recall  the  subject  matter,  read  the 
second  or  the  third  time,  for  reading  is  of  little  benefit  if 
you  cannot  remember  the  main  points  and  incidents 
given  by  the  author.  After  reading  in  this  way  it  is 
advisable  to  write  out  a  general  outline  of  the  book, 


n8 


HOW  TO  READ. 


and  thus  review  again  its  contents,  and  also  state  your 
impressions  of  the  author,  the  manner  in  which  he  has 
treated  his  subject,  and  any  well-considered  criticism  that 
may  occur  to  you.  Another  great  objection  to  hasty  and 
rapid  reading,  is,  that  it  wearies  the  power  of  attention. 

Do  not  read  after  the  mind  is  jaded  and  wandering, 
but  while  the  faculties  are  fresh  enough  to  do  their 
work,  without  any  sense  of  weariness  or  discomfort. 
Half  reading,  when  the  body  and  mind  are  in  a  stupefied 
condition,  leads  to  an  indolent,  listless  habit  of  inattention, 
and  vacuity  of  thought.  Read  with  a  dictionary  at  hand, 
and  do  not  pass  a  word  or  an  expression  until  you  under- 
stand its  meaning.  In  this  way  you  will  enlarge  your 
own  stock  of  words,  as  well  as  get  a  clear  knowledge 
of  what  the  author  means.  It  is  well  to  understand 
the  aim  of  the  author  before  beginning  a  book,  by 
reading  the  preface  and  table  of  contents,  and  also  by 
having  some  general  knowledge  as  to  the  character  of 
the  author  and  his  book.  In  this  way  you  will  know 
what  to  expect,  and  can  form  a  more  accurate  judg- 
ment as  to  the  merits  of  the  work. 

In  buying  books,  it  is  best  to  buy  those  that  you  wish 
to  read  at  once, —  a  single  book  or  work  at  a  time;  and 
as  you  will  choose  those  first  which  you  most  desire  to 
read,  you  will  read  with  greater  interest  and  profit. 
A  library  made  up  in  this  manner,  becomes  like  a  col- 
lection of  old  friends,  for  it  consists  of  only  invited 
guests.  It  is  well  to  mark  the  choicest  passages  in  the 
book  by  some  simple  system  which  any  one  can  easily 


HOW  TO  READ. 


II9 


invent,  and  thus  indicate  your  admiration,  assent, 
doubt,  or  inquiry,  and  also  to  make  brief  notes  of  any 
points  that  may  occur  to  you.  In  this  way  you  can 
readily  refer  to  any  particular  passage,  and  see  what 
was  the  impression  made  at  the  time  it  was  read. 

To  own  a  library  bearing  in  this  manner  the  evi- 
dences  of  one's  own  thought  and  reflection,  affords  the 
most  exquisite  pleasure,  and  will  lead  to  a  more  ardent 
attachment  for  books  than  ever. 

Always  read,  if  possible,  something  you  are  inter- 
ested in,  so  that  you  will  have  the  stimulant  and  zest 
of  an  awakened  curiosity  to  spur  your  mind,  and  to 
engage  your  attention.  Sometimes  this  choice  is  not 
practicable,  for  our  duty  or  business  may  compel  us 
to  read  that  which  relates  only  to  it. 

If  this  be  so,  exercise  the  will,  and  hold  the  mind  to 
its  work,  and  after  a  time  you  shall  discover,  in  the 
barest  and  most  unattractive  subject,  charms  which 
you  never  imagined  it  possessed. 

If  these  brief  suggestions  are  followed,  and  they  are 
entirely  practicable  for  every  reader,  reading  will 
become  such  a  discipline  that  it  will  not  only  enrich 
the  memory  with  vast  treasures  of  knowledge  and 
information,  but  will  discipline  and  strengthen  the 
mind  in  the  most  admirable  manner.  The  number  of 
books  read  may  not  be  so  great  as  by  an  indiscrimin- 
ate selection  and  merely  skimming  over  the  surface, 
but  the  general  result  will  be  immeasurably  more 
satisfactory. 


<9HE  ©E^ILS  OF  SCEPTICISM. 


HERE  are  few  persons  who  have  not,  at 
some  period  of  their  lives,  had  doubts  in 
regard  to  the  essential  doctrines  of  the  Chris- 
tian faith.  Even  eminent  divines  have 
had  their  faith  obscured  at  times  by  clouds  of  dark- 
ness and  distrust.  But  there  is  a  difference  between 
the  honest  doubts  of  the  questioning  mind,  which 
earnestly  desires  to  rind  the  truth,  as  it  grapples  with 
the  great  problems  and  mysteries  of  our  existence  here 
and  hereafter,  and  the  shallow  conceit  which  prides 
itself  in  its  doubts  as  the  sign  of  advanced  thought  or 
intellectual  freedom,  and  thus  cherishes  them,  without 
trying  to  satisfy  them  by  rational  investigation.  The 
honest  doubts  of  the  earnest  inquirer,  when  exposed  to 
the  light  of  truth  as  revealed  in  the  Bible,  are  dissi- 
pated like  mists  before  the  morning  sun. 

Dr.  Nelson,  in  his  work  on  u  Infidelity,"  says  that 
for  many  years  he  had  endeavored  to  persuade  every 
infidel  to  read  some  work  on  the  evidences  of  Chris- 
tianity, and  he  never  knew  but  two  instances  fail  of 
conviction,  and  in  these  he  did  not  know  the  result,  for 
want  of  opportunity. 

James  B.  Walker,  a  brilliant  but  skeptical  young 
lawyer,  once  formed  a  plan  to  carefully  and  system- 


I  2  O 


THE  PERILS  OF  SKEPTICISM. 


121 


atically  study  the  Scriptures,  with  a  view  to  finding 
out  its  inconsistencies  and  fortifying  his  infidel  opinions, 
but,  as  he  studied,  the  grand  design  of  an  overruling 
Being  to  reach,  lift  up  and  save  a  degraded  race, 
opened  before  him,  his  doubts  were  removed,  and  the 
result  of  his  study  was  a  book  called,  "  The  Philosophy 
of  the  Plan  of  Salvation,"  one  of  the  most  powerful 
and  rational  volumes  written  in  this  century,  in  defense 
of  the  Christian  religion.  The  way  to  settle  doubts  is, 
not  to  seek  for  more  doubts,  but  to  say,  like  Goethe, 
u  If  you  have  any  truth,  let  me  have  it;  I  have  doubts 
enough  of  my  own.'1  Talk  candidly  with  people 
who  know  more  than  you  do,  and  read  carefully  the 
works  of  Christian  scholars  who  have  given  these  mat- 
ters careful  study. 

A  popular  writer  has  thus  touchingly  related  the 
struggles  of  a  questioning  mind,  groping  in  the  dark 
and  seeking  for  light : 

u  Some  years  ago  a  young  French  nobleman,  a 
friend  of  the  Emperor  Napoleon  III.,  became  affected 
by  that  mild  form  of  insanity  known  as  4  melancholy.' 
No  one,  not  even  the  medical  experts,  could  find  out 
what  ailed  him,  though  the  inference  seemed  to  be 
that  he  was  troubled  by  some  mental  burden  which  he 
would  not  confess. 

"  He  was  rational,  with  the  sole  exception  of  this 
unhealthy,  brooding  habit  of  mind;  but  this  alone  was 
sufficient  to  make  him  strange,  and  isolate  him  from 
all  interest  in  passing  things.    His  relatives  grew  more 


122 


THE  PERILS  OF  SKEPTICISM. 


and  more  concerned  about  him,  and  finally,  despairing 
of  his  cure  at  home,  they  procured  letters  from  the 
Emperor,  and  sent  him  over  to  London,  to  the  care  of 
the  famous  physician,  Dr.  Forbes  Winslow. 

44  The  great  doctor  soon  divined  his  patient's  case, 
and  managed  his  examination  with  such  tact  and  gen- 
tleness that  he  succeeded  in  getting  at  his  secret. 

"  4  You  are  right,  doctor,'  said  the  young  man,  as  if 
the  confession  cost  him.  a  strong  effort.  4  It  is  religious 
anxiety  that  troubles  me.  I  was  educated  in  infidelity. 
My  father  and  grandfather  before  me  were  infidels. 
But  for  the  last  three  years  these  words  have  haunted 
me  day  and  night,  Eternity!  and  where  shall  I  spend 
it?  They  follow  me  like  a  horrible  spell.  I  cannot 
shake  it  off.    What  shall  I  do?' 

"  There  was  a  moment's  pause,  and  then  Dr.  Wins- 
low  said,  solemnly,  4  Sir,  you  have  come  to  the  wrong 
physician,    /cannot  help  you.' 

"  The  young  man  sprang  to  his  feet.  4  Doctor,  do 
you  mean  to  tell  me  there  is  no  hope?'  he  said.  'Is 
there  no  release  from  this  terrible  thought  that  chases 
me?  When  I  wake,  and  when  I  sleep,  I  hear  the 
voice,  Eternity,  eternity!  Where  shall  I  spend  it? 
And  you  tell  me  you  can  give  me  no  help!' 

44  4  Calm  yourself,'  replied  the  good  physician,  for  he 
had  not  yet  said  his  final  word.  4  For  many  years,' 
he  continued,  4 1  was  an  infidel  myself,  but  I  am  a 
happier  man  now.  My  cure  was  faith  in  Jesus  of 
Nazareth,  the  Son  of  God.' 


THE  PERILS  OF  SKEPTICISM.  1 23 

(L  The  young  nobleman  looked  earnestly  in  the  doc- 
tor's eyes.  '  Do  you  believe,  then,  in  Jesus  Christ,  and 
that  he  can  help  my  case?' 

"  '  I  do  believe,'  said  Dr.  Winslow.  'It  was  He  who 
brought  me  out  of  trouble  such  as  yours;  and  now  I 
am  well  assured  where  I  shall  spend  my  eternity.  He 
is  the  physician  you  want.1 

"  The  doctor  then  read  the  fifty-third  chapter  of 
Isaiah, — '  He  was  wounded  for  our  transgressions,  He 
was  bruised  for  our  iniquities.  The  chastisement  of 
our  peace  was  upon  him,  and  by  His  stripes  we  are 
healed,'  and  afterwards  he  knelt  with  his  patient  and 
prayed. 

u  The  young  nobleman's  confidence  in  his  adviser 
"had  made  him  teachable;  prayer  softened  his  heart 
and  brought  him  light,  and  faith  in  Christ  lifted  him 
into  the  peace  of  God.** 

Do  not  make  the  mistake  of  supposing  that  it  is 
necessary  that  you  should  fully  comprehend  all  truth. 
The  outer  world  about  us  is  full  of  mysteries  which 
we  cannot  explain,  but  which  we  accept  and  believe- 
The  wisest  men  cannot  grasp  or  understand  them  any 
more  than  the  little  child.  In  the  great  realm  of 
human  knowledge, — in  science  Jaw,  medicine  and  art. — 
the  most  skillful  experts  in  each  have  different  opinions, 
and  cannot  see  alike;  and  so,  in  considering  the  great 
themes  of  Christian  truth,  we  cannot  be  expected  to 
view  them  from  the  same  standpoint.  The  mountain 
ot  truth  remains  the  same,  although  we  may  see  its 


124  THE  PERILS  .  OF  SKEPTICISM. 

outline  from  different  perspectives.  Remember,  that 
doubts  prove  nothing.  If  they  undermine  and  take 
away  your  faith  they  give  you  nothing  in  return.  They 
may  so  pervert  and  warp  your  judgment  as  to  turn  you 
aside  from  the  absolute  certainties  of  truth,  and  leave 
you  helplessly  to  grope  about  among  blind  uncertain- 
ties. Rev.  J.  J.  Munger  finely  illustrates  this  by  this 
reference  to  the  infidel  author  of  that  collection  of 
shallow  superficialities,  long  ago  exploded,  called 
"The  Mistakes  of  Moses."  He  says:  "Does  the 
author  of  that  book  know  what  the  Jewish  system 
means,  when  you  get  down  to  the  soul  of  it  ?  Does  he 
tell  you  that  its  key-note  is  mercy,  and  that  its  method 
and  aim  are  simply  those  of  deliverance  and  freedom 
from  the  actual  ills  of  life?  Does  he  tell  you  that  it  is 
a  system  shot  through  and  through  with  great  redeem- 
ing and  liberating  forces?  Does  he  tell  you  that  it 
takes  a  nation  of  slaves, — ignorant,  barbaric,  besotted 
in  mind  and  degenerate  in  body, — and  by  a  shrewdly 
adapted  system  of  laws,  lifts  it  steadily  and  persistently, 
and  bears  it  on  to  ever  bettering  conditions,  and  always 
toward  freedom?  Does  he  tell  you  that  from  first  to 
last,  from  center  to  circumference,  it  was  a  system  of 
deliverance  from  bondage,  from  disease,  from  igno- 
rance, from  anarchy,  from  superstition,  from  degrading 
customs,  from  despotism,  from  barbarism,  from 
Oriental  vices  and  philosophies,  from  injustice  and  op- 
pression, from  individual  and  national  sin  and  fault? 
Does  he  fcell  you  that  then  the  nation  was  organized  in 


THE  PERILS  OF  SKEPTICISM. 


125 


the  interest  of  freedom,  planned  to  rescue  it  by  a 
gradually  unfolding  system  of  laws,  educational  in 
their  spirit,  and  capable  of  wide  expansion  in  right 
directions?  Nothing  of  this  he  sees,  but  only  some  in 
congruities  in  numbers  and  a  cosmogony  apparently 
not  scientific." 

The  author  of  that  production,  when  asked  whether  he 
believed  in  a  hereafter,  replied,  b*  I  do  not  know.  I 
am  aboard  of  a  great  ship.  I  do  not  know  what 
port  she  left,  nor  whither  she  is  bound.  She  may  go 
down  with  all  on  board,  or  she  may  reach  some  sunny 
port.  I  do  not  know.  It  is  no  more  strange  that  men 
should  live  again  than  that  they  have  lived."  When 
Gibbon,  the  eminent  historian,  was  asked,  when  dying, 
"How  does  the  world  appear  to  you  now?1'  he  closed 
his  eyes  a  moment,  then  opened  them,  and  with  a  deep 
sigh,  replied:  tw  All  things  are  fleeting.  When  I  look 
back,  I  see  they  have  been  fleeting;  when  I  look  for- 
ward, all  is  dark  and  doubtful."  Such  are  the  consola- 
tions of  skepticism, — they  afford  nothing  but  dark  and 
gloomy  forebodings  for  the  future.  How  different 
this  from  the  trumpet-toned  assurance  of  the  martyred 
Paul  as  he  stood  in  the  presence  of  a  violent  death: 
"I  have  fought  the  good  light;  I  have  finished  the 
course;  henceforth  there  is  laid  up  for  me  a  crown  of 
righteousness."  Since  then  millions  have  died  with 
this  same  hope  in  their  hearts,  and  have  passed 
triumphantly  to  the  same  reward. 

Depend  upon  it,  many  so-called  skeptics  are  not  sin- 


126 


THE  PERILS  OF  SKEPTICISM. 


cere  in  their  unbelief.  They  desire  to  believe  certain 
things,  and  so,  after  a  time,  almost  persuade  themselves 
that  they  do  believe  them.  It  is  related  of  King 
George  of  England  that  he  was  accustomed  to  describe 
the  part  he  had  taken  in  the  battle  of  Waterloo,  and 
after  a  time  came  to  believe  that  he  was  actually 
there.  Once  he  was  recounting  his  thrilling  exploits 
to  a  company,  in  the  presence  of  Wellington,  the  hero 
of  the  conflict.  "  Is  that  not  true,  Arthur?"  the  King 
said,  turning  to  the  Duke  at  the  end  of  his  story. 
Said  Wellington:  "  It  is  as  true,  your  majesty,  as  any 
of  the  narratives  you  have  favored  us  with."  The 
infidel  would  have  neither  a  God  nor  a  judgment,  and 
this  desire  finally  grows  into  a  sort  of  belief.  But 
there  are  moments  when  he  doubts  his  skepticism,  and 
when  the  truth  flashes  upon  his  mind.  One  of  them 
said  to  a  friend:  "  There  is  one  thing  that  mars  all  the 
pleasures  of  my  life.'7  "  Indeed,"  replied  his  friend; 
"  what  is  that?"  He  answered:  "/  am  afraid  the 
Bible  is  true.  If  I  could  know  for  certain  that  death 
is  an  eternal  sleep,  I  should  be  happy;  my  joy  would 
be  complete!  But  here  is  the  thorn  that  stings  me. 
This  is  the  sword  that  pierces  my  very  soul, — if  the 
Bible  is  true}  I  am  lost  forever ;" 

Listen  to  the  confession  of  Hume:  u  I  seem/''  he 
says,  "  affrighted  and  confounded  with  the  solitude  in 
which  I  am  placed  by  my  philosophy.  When  I  look 
abroad,  on  every  side  I  see  dispute,  contradiction  and 
distraction.    When  I  turn  my  eye  inward,  I  find  noth- 


THE  PERILS  OF  SKEPTICISM. 


12/ 


ing  but  doubt  and  ignorance.  Where  am  I?  or  what 
am  I?  From  what  cause  do  I  derive  my  existence? 
To  what  condition  shall  I  return?  I  am  confounded 
with  questions.  I  begin  to  fancy  myself  in  a  very  de- 
plorable condition,  environed  with  darkness  on  every 
side." 

A  most  striking  incident  has  been  thus  narrated,  that 
shows  to  what  baseness  and  insincerity  infidelity  can 
subject  the  mind.  A  speaker  once  addressed  an  audi- 
ence with  great  vehemence,  denying  God  and  im- 
mortality, and  uttering  the  most  fearful  blasphemies. 
When  he  had  done,  a  man  arose  and  said:  kt  I 
shall  not  attempt  to  confute  the  arguments  of  the 
orator,  nor  criticise  his  style,  but  will  relate  a  fact,  and 
you  can  draw  your  own  conclusions.  Yesterday.'1  he 
said,  "  I  saw  a  young  man  on  yonder  river,  in  a  boat 

7  J  CD  J  I 

which  was  unmanageable,  and  nearing  the  rapids.  He 
had  given  up  all  hope  of  saving  his  life,  and  was 
wringing  his  hands  in  agony.    By  and  bv  he  knelt 

CD         CD  CD  J  J 

down  and  said,  with  desperate  earnestness:  £  O  God, 
save  my  soul.  If  my  body  cannot  be  saved,  save  my 
soul.1  I  heard  him  confess  that  he  had  been  a  blas- 
phemer, and  heard  him  vow  that  if  his  life  was  spared 
he  would  never  be  such  again.    I  heard  him  implore 

CD  i 

the  mercy  of  heaven,  for  Jesus  Christ's  sake,  and  earn- 
estly plead  that  he  might  be  washed  in  His  blood.  I 
plunged  in,  brought  the  boat  to  shore  and  saved  his 
life.  That  same  young  man  has  just  addressed  you, 
and  cursed  his  Maker.    What  say  you  to  this,  sirs?" 


128 


THE  PERILS  OF  SKEPTICISM. 


A  shudder  ran  through  the  young  man  himself,  as  well 
as  the  audience,  as  they  were  confronted  with  such  ap 
palling  insincerity  and  baseness  of  conduct. 

The  poet  Shelley,  although  a  great  genius,  was  a 
bitter  skeptic.  On  one  occasion,  while  making  a  short 
sea  voyage  with  Byron  and  others,  during  their  resi- 
dence in  Italy,  a  tempest  arose,  and  they  expected 
every  moment  to  be  launched  into  eternity.  Shelley 
went  down  below,  and  fervently  prayed  for  deliverance. 
Unexpectedly  they  were  saved,  and  soon  after  Shelley 
was  the  same  bold  blasphemer  as  before.  This  was 
his  last  warning,  for  he  soon  met  a  watery  grave,  and 
his  life  was  quenched  in  darkness. 

There  is  undoubted  proof  that  the  infidel  writer, 
Thomas  Paine,  when  on  his  dying  bed,  expressed  the 
deepest  regret  that  he  had  written  the  "  Age  of  Rea- 
son," and  also  declared  that  if  his  life  was  spared  he 
would  write  another  book  to  refute  its  errors  and 
sophistries. 

What  has  skepticism  done  for  mankind,  except  to 
take  away  faith,  hope  and  comfort?  Ask  what  has 
Christianity  done,  and  the  answer  is,  a  history  of  mod- 
ern*civilization.  A  great  educator  has  said:  "  Faith 
in  God  has  been  the  corner-stone  of  all  that  is  noble  in 
human  history,  or  valuable  in  human  achievements.''1 
What  vital  force  was  it  that  could  transform  degraded 
and  cannibal  races  like  those  of  the  Sandwich  and  Fiji 
Islands,  into  orderly  and  intelligent  peoples,  with  their 
schools  and  churches,  music  and  literature,  until  to-day 


THE  PERILS  OF  SKEPTICISM. 


129 


there  is  a  larger  proportion  of  church  attendants 
among  the  native  population,  than  even  in  older  Chris- 
tain  communities?  What  power  is  it.  which  estab- 
lishes, endows  and  carries  on  schools,  colleges,  hos- 
pitals, asylums,  reformatories,  and  all  the  grand  sys- 
tems of  instruction  and  charity,  which,  in  a  thousand 
different  forms,  meet  the  needs  of  our  poor,  weak  hu- 
manity. Strike  out  Christianity  from  the  world,  and 
you  strike  out  the  light  and  glory  of  our  modern  civil- 
ization. Was  it  a  chimera  and  delusion  that  could 
inspire  with  faith  and  hope  such  men  as  Milton.  Locke, 
Bacon,  Xewton,  Cromwell.  Washington.  Webster. 
Lincoln,  and  an  innumerable  galaxy  of  the  greatest 
minds  that  earth  has  produced  ?  These  are  among  the 
mightiest  intellects  and  geniuses  of  earth,  and,  depend 
upon  it,  they  did  not  cherish  a  belief  unless  it  had  a 
stable  foundation.  Depend  upon  it,  the  evidences 
which  were  sufficient  to  satisfy  the  questioning  of  these 
master  minds,  will  be  sound  enough  to  answer  and 
satisfy  all  your  doubts. 


©he  Study  of  the  Bible. 


)NE  of  the  most  beautiful  tributes  to  the 
worth  of  the  Bible  has  been  given  by  the 
gifted  Theodore  Parker,  in  these  words: 
u  This  collection  of  books  has  taken  such  a 
hold  on  the  world  as  no  other.  It  is  read  of  a  Sab- 
bath in  all  the  ten  thousand  pulpits  of  our  land;  the  sun 
never  sets  on  its  gleaming  pages.  It  goes  equally  to 
the  cottage  of  the  plain  man  and  the  palace  of  the 
king.  It  is  woven  into  the  literature  of  the  scholar, 
and  colors  the  talk  of  the  street.  The  barque  of  the 
merchant  cannot  sail  the  sea  without  it.  No  ships  of 
war  go  to  the  conflict  but  the  Bible  is  there.  It  enters 
men's  closets,  mingles  in  all  the  griefs  and  cheerfulness 
of  life.  The  affianced  maiden  prays  God  in  Scripture 
for  strength  in  her  home  duties ;  men  are  married  by 
Scripture;  the  Bible  attends  them  in  their  sickness — 
when  the  fever  of  the  world  is  upon  them,  the  aching 
head  finds  a  softer  pillow  when  the  Bible  lies  under- 
neath. The  mariner,  escaping  from  shipwreck,  es- 
teems it  the  first  of  his  treasures,  and  keeps  it  sacred 
to  God.  It  goes  with  the  peddler  in  his  crowded  pack, 
cheers  him  at  eventide  when  he  sits  down,  dusty  and 

fatigued,  and  brightens  the  freshness  of  his  morning 

130 


THE  STUDY  OF  THE  BIBLE.  1 3  I 

face.  It  blesses  us  when  we  are  born,  gives  names  to 
half  of  Christendom,  rejoices  with  us.  has  sympathy 
for  our  mourning,  tempers  our  grief  to  liner  issues. 
It  is  the  better  part  of  our  sermons ;  it  lifts  man  above 
himself, — our  best  of  natural  prayers  are  in  its  storied 
speech,  wherewith  our  fathers  and  the  patriarchs 
prayed.  The  timid  man  about  awaking  from  this 
dream  of  life,  looks  through  the  glass  of  Scripture,  and 
his  eve  grows  bright ;  he  does  not  fear  to  stand  alone, 
to  tread  the  way  unknown  and  distant,  to  take  the 
Death  Angel  by  the  hand  and  bid  farewell  to  wife, 
and  babes,  and  home!  Men  rest  on  this  their  dearest 
hopes.  It  tells  them  of  God  and  of  his  blessed  Son; 
of  earthly  duties  and  of  Heavenly  trust!" 

Let  us  turn  from  this  acute  thinker  and  eloquent 
divine,  to  listen  to  one  who  was  brought  up  in  another 
faith,  and  whose  training:  and  associations  were  entirely, 
dissimilar.  A  learned  Brahmin,  of  India,  before  a 
large  audience,  voluntarily  made  this  striking  acknowl- 
edgment of  its  power  and  influence:  "  The  Bible! — 
there  is  nothing  to  compare  with  it,  in  all  our  sacred 
books,  for  goodness,  and  purity,  and  holiness,  and  love, 
and  for  motives  of  action.  Where  did  the  English- 
speaking  people  get  all  their  intelligence,  and  energy, 
and  cleverness,  and  power?  It  is  their  Bible  that  gives 
these  things  to  them;  and  now  they  bring  it  to  us.  and 
say:  'This  is  what  raised  us.  take  it  and  raise  your- 
selves.' They  do  not  force  it  upon  us,  as  the  Moham- 
medans used  to  force  their  Koran;  but  they  bring  it  in 


132 


THE  STUDY  OF  THE  BIBLE. 


love,  and  translate  it  into  our  languages,  and  lay  it 
before  us  and  say,  '  Look  at  it,  read  it,  examine  it,  and 
see  if  it  is  not  good.'  Of  one  thing  I  am  convinced — 
do  what  we  will,  oppose  it  as  we  may,  it  is  the  Chris- 
tian's Bible  that  will  sooner  or  later  work  the  regener- 
ation of  this  land." 

The  eloquent  Gilfillian,  of  Scotland,  one  of  the  most 
brilliant  of  critics,  said  of  the  Bible:  "  It  has  been  sub- 
jected, along  with  many  other  books,  to  the  fire  of  the 
keenest  investigation ;  a  fire  which  has  contemptuously 
burned  up  the  cosmogony  of  the  Shasta,  the  absurd 
fables  of  the  Koran,  nay,  the  husbandry  of  the  Georgics, 
the  historical  truth  of  Livy,  the  artistic  merit  of  many 
a  popular  poem,  the  authority  of  many  a  book  of 
philosophy  and  science.  And  yet  this  artless,  loosely- 
piled  book  lies  unhurt,  untouched,  with  not  one  page 
singed,  and  not  even  the  smell  of  fire  has  passed 
upon  it." 

Salmon  P.  Chase,  the  noted  statesman  and  jurist, 
who  died  holding  the  office  of  Chief  Justice  of  the  Su- 
preme Court  of  the  United  States,  expressed  himself  a 
few  days  before  his  death,  to  one  of  his  associate  judges, 
as  a  firm  believer  in  the  inspiration  of  the  Bible,  and 
the  plan  of  salvation  as  taught  by  the  Savior.  He  said 
that  early  in  his  manhood,  he  had  brought  to  the  ex- 
amination of  the  Scriptures  all  the  powers  of  his  mind, 
and  carefully  read  all  the  leading  arguments  for  and 
against  the  truth  of  those  Scriptures;  that  he  had 
deliberately  made  up  his  mind  that  the  Bible  was  the 


THE  STUDY  OF  THE  BIBLE. 


133 


word  of  God,  a  divine  revelation  to  man,  and  he  had 
never  in  a  long  life  wavered  in  his  belief.  He  treated 
the  subject  as  he  would  a  question  of  law,  and  having 
carefulh'  ana  duly  examined  the  subject,  and  settled  it 
in  his  own  mind,  it  became  to  him  as  an  axiom  not  to 
be  disputed  or  departed  from. 

Lieut.  M.  F.  Maury,  one  of  the  ablest  scientists  of 
this  country,  said: 

li  I  have  been  blamed  by  men  of  science,  both  in 
America  and  111  England,  for  quoting  the  Bible  in  con- 
firmation of  the  doctrines  of  physical  geography.  The 
Bible,  they  say,  was  not  written  for  scientific  purposes, 
and  is  therefore  of  no  authority.  I  beg  pardon;  the 
Bible  is  authority  for  everything  it  touches.  What 
would  you  think  of  the  historian  who  should  refuse  to 
consult  the  historical  records  of  the  Bible  because  the 
Bible  was  not  written  for  history?  The  Bible  is  true, 
and  science  is  true;  and  when  your  man  of  science, 
with  vain  and  hasty  conceit,  announces  the  discovery 
of  a  disagreement  between  them,  rely  upon  it  the  fault 
is  not  with  the  witness,  or  his  records,  but  with  the 
1  worm  1  who  essays  to  interpret  evidence  which  he 
does  not  understand.  When  I,  a  pioneer  in  one  de- 
partment of  this  beautiful  science,  discover  the  truths 
of  revelation  and  the  truths  of  science  reflecting'  light 
one  upon  the  other,  and  each  sustaining  the  other,  how 
can  I,  as  a  truth-loving,  knowledge-seeking  man,  fail  to 
point  out  the  beauty,  and  rejoice  in  the  discovery? 
And  were  I  to  suppress  the  emotions  with  which  such 


134 


THE  STUDY  OF  THE  BIBLE, 


discoveries  ought  to  stir  the  soul,  the  waves  would  lift 
up  their  voice,  and  the  very  stones  of  the  earth  would 
cry  out  against  me." 

It  is  said  that  an  English  barrister,  who  was  accus- 
tomed to  train  students  for  the  practice  of  the  law,  and 
who  was  not  himself  a  religious  man,  was  once  asked 
why  he  put  students,  from  the  very  first,  to  the  study 
and  analysis  of  the  most  difficult  parts  of  the  sacred 
Scriptures,  said,  u  Because  there  is  nothing  else  like  it 
in  any  language,  for  the  development  of  mind  and 
character.'7 

Richard  Grant  White,  the  brilliant  essayist,  left  this 
testimony  to  the  influence  of  the  Bible  on  his  life:  "  1 
had  been  brought  up  on  the  Bible,  which  1  had  read  until 
even  at  this  day,  I  know  it  better  than  I  know  any  other 
book;  and  this,  with  the  '  Pilgrim's  Progress,'  and  the 
Waverly  novels,  both  of  which  I  read  over  and  over 
again,  had  made  poor  books  distasteful  to  me,  and 
awakened  in  me  a  greed  for  the  good,  for  which  good 
fortune  of  my  boyhood  I  cannot  be  too  grateful."" 

Similar  testimony  has  been  given  by  John  Ruskin,  the 
great  writer  and  art  critic.  He  said  that  his  mother 
forced  him,  by  steady  toil,  to  learn  long  chapters  by 
heart,  as  well  as  to  read  the  whole  Bible  aloud  about 
once  a  year.  "  But,"  he  continues,  "  to  that  discipline  I 
owe,  not  only  a  knowledge  of  the  Book,  but  much  of  my 
general  power  of  taking  pains,  and  the  best  part  of  my 
taste  in  literature."  He  adds  that  it  was  impossible  for 
one  who  knew  by  heart  the  thirty-second  of  Deu- 


THE  STUDY  OF  THE  BIBLE. 


135 


teronomy,  the  one  hundred  and  nineteenth  Psalm, 
the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  and  the  Apocalypse,  even 
in  the  foolishest  times  of  youth,  to  write  entirely 
superficial  or  formal  English.  He  also  says  of  the 
Bible:  "It  is  the  grandest  group  of  writings  in 
existence-,  put  into  the  grandest  language  of  the 
world,  in  the  first  strength  of  the  Christian  faith, 
by  an  entirely  wise  and  kind  saint,  St.  Jerome  ; 
translated  afterward  with  beauty  and  felicity  into 
every  language  of  the  Christian  world ;  and  the  guide, 
since  so  translated,  of  all  the  arts  and  acts  of  that 
world  which  have  been  noble,  fortunate  and  happy. 
And  by  consultation  of  it  honestly,  on  any  serious  busi- 
ness, you  may  always  learn  what  you  should  do  in 
such  business,  and  be  directed  perhaps  besides,  to 
work  more  serious  than  you  had  thought  of." 

Another  critic  has  said  that  u  One  reason  why  the 
Bible  has  so  great  literary  value  is  that  its  style  is  both 
simple  and  strong.'"  Coleridge,  a  good  critic  of  style, 
though  he  did  not  always  heed  his  own  criticisms, 
thought  it  a  kind  of  providence,  that  the  Bible  was 
translated  at  about  the  time  when  the,  English  language 
had  its  greatest  strength.  Any  one  may  see  for  him- 
self this  simplicity  and  strength  by  comparing  a  chap- 
ter of  the  Bible  with  the  leading  article  in  a  good 
newspaper.  The  contrast  will  teach  him  how  much 
the  modern  style  of  writing  has  lost  by  sacrificing 
simplicity  and  strength  for  the  sake  of  doing,  what 
joldsmith  told  Johnson  he  would  do  if  he  were,  to 


136 


THE  STUDY  OF  THE  BIBLE. 


write  a  book  about  animals,  "  Make  all  the  little  fishes 
talk  like  whales. " 

Rev.  Dr.  R.  J.  Breckenridge,  the  celebrated  divine 
of  Kentucky,  once  said  to  a  friend:  "  I  suppose  that 
there  is  no  book  written  on  any  subject,  or  in  any 
language,  that  I  could  not  master  in  one  year,  if  I 
should  set  myself  about  it, 

u  But  I  have  made  the  Bible  a  special  study  for  thirty- 
four  years,  and  I  never  open  it  that  I  do  not  discover 
something  new.  It  reminds  me  of  the  great  firma- 
ment. Penetrate  as  far  as  you  may,  with  the  aid  of 
the  most  powerful  glass  that  the  ingenuity  of  man  has 
produced,  and  still  there  is  something  beyond." 

An  anecdote  is  related  of  a  conversation  between 
Dr.  Breckenridge  and  the  brilliant  Thomas  Marshall, 
who  did  not  believe  in  the  inspiration  of  the  Scriptures. 
Marshall  asserted  that  any  scholar  could  write  as  good 
parables  as  those  of  the  New  Testament.  Said  the 
doctor,  "  If  you  will  write  a  production  equal  in  its 
ideas  and  construction  to  the  Parable  of  the  Prodigal 
Son,  I  will  agree  that  you  are  right  and  I  am  wrong, 
and  I  will  give  you  three  months  in  which  to  work. 
If  it  can  be  done,  you  are  as  well  qualified  to  do  it  as 
anybody  I  know." 

Marshall  accepted  the  proposition,  and  said  he  would 
do  the  work  in  twenty-four  hours.  In  a  week  or  two 
he  returned  and  said,  "Doctor,  that  thing  can't  be 
done.    I  give  it  up.v 

Sir  Walter  Scott,  just  before  his  death,  desired  his 


THE  STUDY  OF  THE  BIBLE. 


137 


son-in-law  to  read  to  him.  k>  From  what  book  shall  I 
read?  "  ,k  And  you  ask?"  said  Scott.  "  There  is  but 
one. "  ;'I  chose,'1  said  Lockhart,  k>  the  14th  chapter 
of  St.  John.  He  listened  with  mild  devotion,  and  said, 
when  I  had  done,  '  Well,  this  is  a  great  comfort.  I 
have  followed  you  distinctly,  and  I  feel  as  if  I  was  to 
be  myself  again.' 11 

A  popular  writer  has  finely  brought  out  the  influence 
which  the  Bible  had  on  the  intellect  of  Daniel  Webster, 
the  manner  in  which  it  inspired  his  eloquence,  and  his 
astonishing  familiarity  with  the  Scriptures.  He  says  that, 
•'While  a  mere  lad  he  read  with  such  power  and  expres- 
sion that  the  passing  teamsters,  who  stopped  to  water 
their  horses,  used  to  get  £  Webster's  boy  '  to  come  out 
beneath  the  shade  of  the  trees  and  read  the  Bible  to 
them.  Those  who  heard  Mr  Webster,  in  later  life, 
recite  passages  from  the  Hebrew  prophets  and  Psalms, 
say  that  he  held  them  spellbound,  while  each  passage, 
even  the  most  familiar,  came  home  to  them  in  a  new 
meaning.  One  gentleman  says  that  he  never  received 
such  ideas  of  the  majesty  of  God  and  the  dignity  of 
man  as  he  did  one  clear  night  when  Mr.  Webster, 
standing  in  the  open  air,  recited  the  eighth  Psalm. 
Webster's  mother  observed  another  old  fashion  of 
Xew  England  in  training  her  son.  She  encouraged 
him  to  memorize  such  Scriptural  passages  as  im- 
pressed him.  The  boy's  retentive  memory  and  his 
sensitiveness  to  Bible  metaphors  and  to  the  rhythm  of 
the  English  version,  stored  his  mind  with  Scripture. 


138 


THE  STUDY  OF  THE  BIBLE. 


On  one  occasion  the  teacher  of  the  district  school 
offered  a  jack-knife  to  the  boy  who  should  recite  the 
greatest  number  of  verses  from  the  Bible.  When 
Webster's  turn  came  he  arose  and  reeled  off  so  many 
verses  that  the  master  was  forced  to  cry,  4  enough.'  It 
was  the  mother's  training  and  the  boy's  delight  in  the 
idioms  and  music  of  King  James's  version  that  made 
him  the  '  Biblical  Concordance  of  the  Senate.'  But 
these  two  factors  made  him  more  than  a  £  concordance.' 
The  Hebrew  prophets  inspired  him  to  eloquent  utter- 
ances. He  listened  to  them  until  their  vocabulary  and 
idioms,  as  expressed  in  King  James's  translations, 
became  his  mother-tongue.  Of  his  lofty  utterances  it 
may  be  said,  as  Wordsworth  said  of  Milton's  poetry, 
they  are  '  Hebrew  in  soul.'  Therefore  they  project 
themselves  into  the  future.  The  young  man  who 
would  be  a  writer  that  shall  be  read,  or  an  orator 
whom  people  will  hear,  should  study  the  English 
Bible.  Its  singular  beauty  and  great  power  as  litera 
ture,  the  thousand  sentiments  and  associations  which 
use  has  attached  to  it,  have  made  it  a  mightier  force 
than  any  other  book." 

Horace  Bushnell,  one  of  the  brightest  intellects  of 
this  century,  said  of  himself:  "My  own  experience  is 
that  the  Bible  is  dull  when  I  am  dull.  When  I  am 
really  alive  and  set  in  upon  the  text  with  a  tidal  pleas- 
ure of  living  affinities,  it  opens,  it  multiplies,  discovers 
and  reveals  depths  even  faster  than  I  can  note  them." 

Rev.  DeWitt  Talmage  thus  expresses  his  attachment 


THE  STUDY  OF  THE  BIBLE. 


139 


to  the  sacred  Word:  "We  open  our  Bibles,  and  we 
feel  like  the  Christian  Arab  who  said  to  the  skeptic, 
when  asked  by  him  why  he  believed  there  was  a  God, 
'  Hew  do  I  know  that  it  was  a  man  instead  of  a  camel 
that  went  past  my  tent  last  night?  Why,  I  know  him 
by  the  tracks.'  Then,  looking  over  at  the  setting  sun, 
the  Arab  said  to  the  skeptic,  '  Look  there!  that  is  not 
the  work  of  a  man.  That  is  the  track  of  a  God." 
We  have  all  these  things  revealed  in  God's  Word. 
Dear  old  book!  My  father  loved  it.  It  trembled  in 
pay  mother's  hand  when  she  was  nigh  fourscore  years 
old.  It  has  been  under  the  pillows  of  three  of  my 
brothers  when  they  died.  It  is  a  very  different  book 
from  what  it  once  was  to  me.  I  used  to  take  it  as  a 
splendid  poem,  and  read  it  as  I  read  John  Milton.  I 
took  it  up  sometimes  as  a  treatise  on  law,  and  read  it 
as  I  did  Blackstone.  I  took  it  as  a  tine  history,  and 
read  it  as  I  did  Josephus.  Ah !  now  it  is  not  the  poem: 
it  is  not  the  treatise  of  law;  it  is  not  the  history.  It  is 
simply  a  family  album  that  I  open,  and  see  right  before 
me  the  face  of  God,  my  Father,  of  Christ,  my  Saviour: 
o:  heaven,  my  eternal  home.M 

Coleridge  has  said,  "  As  the  Xew  Testament  sets 
forth  the  means  and  condition  of  spiritual  convales- 
cence, with  all  the  laws  of  conscience  relative  to  our 
future  state  and  permanent  being,  so  does  the  Bible 
present  to  us  the  elements  of  public  prudence,  instruct- 
ing us  in  the  true  causes,  the  surest  preventions,  and 
the  only  cure  of  public  evils.    I  persist  in  avowing  my 


140 


THE  STUDY  OF  THE  BIBLE. 


conviction  that  the  inspired  poets,  historians,  and  sen- 
tentiaries  of  the  Jews,  are  the  clearest  teachers  of 
political  economy;  in  short,  that  their  writings  are  the 
"Statesman's  Best  Manual,1''  not  only  as  containing  the 
first  principles  and  ultimate  grounds  of  state  policy, 
whether  in  prosperous  times  or  in  those  of  danger  and 
distress,  but  as  supplying  likewise  the  details  of  their 
application,  and  as  being  a  full  and  spacious  repository 
of  precedents  and  facts  in  proof.'1 

We  have  thus  presented  tributes  and  testimonies 
from  some  of  the  greatest  divines,  scientists,  jurists, 
statesmen  and  critics  of  modern  times,  showing  the 
influence  of  the  Bible  on  personal  character,  literature, 
oratory,  statesmanship  and  national  progress,  and  such 
testimony  might  be  multiplied  by  volumes.  Is  it  not 
worth  while  to  accept  the  opinions  of  these  great  men, 
and  like  them  make  the  Bible  a  careful  and  continuous 
study?  What  book  is  so  worthy  of  our  earnest 
perusal?  As  has  been  eloquently  said,  "Cities  fall, 
empires  come  to  nothing,  and  kingdoms  fade  away  as 
smoke.  Where  are  Numa,  Minos,  Lycurgus  ?  Where 
are  their  books?  and  what  has  become  of  their  laws? 
But  that  this  book  no  tyrant  should  have  been  able  to 
consume,  no  tradition  to  choke,  no  heretic  maliciously 
to  corrupt;  that  it  should  stand  unto  this  day  amid  the 
wreck  of  all  that  was  human,  without  the  alteration  of 
one  sentence  so  as  to  change  the  doctrine  taught 
therein — surely  this  is  a  very  singular  providence, 
claiming  our  attention  in  a  very  remarkable  manner." 


THE  STUDY  OF  THE  BIBLE. 


It  furnishes  invaluable  counsel  in  all  the  practical 
emergencies  of  life,  its  influence  will  strengthen  and 
purifv  the  character,  and  exalt  the  motives  of  life  and 
conduct.  It  has  been  the  source  of  strength  and  hope 
to  millions  of  despairing  souls,  who  have  triumphed 
over  troubles  and  temptations  which  else  would  have 
overwhelmed  them.  It  has  been  a  shelter  from  the 
storms  of  life,  a  consolation  in  times  of  affliction,  and  a 
light  in  the  darkness  of  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of 
Death. 

Among  the  dead  on  one  of  the  battle-fields  before 
Richmond,  was  found  a  soldier  beneath  whose  pulse- 
less hand  was  an  open  Bible,  and  his  fingers  were 
pressed  upon  these  precious  words  of  the  23d  Psalm: 
"Thy  rod  and  thy  staff  they  comfort  me." 

Such  has  been  and  is  its  power  and  influence  in  life 
and  in  death. 

;'  Thou  truest  friend  man  ever  knew, 

Thy  constancy  I've  tried  ; 
When  all  were  false,  I  found  thee  true. 

My  counsellor  and  guide. 
The  mines  of  earth  no  treasures  give 

That  could  this  volume  buy; 
In  teaching  me  the  way  to  live, 

It  taught  me  how  to  die." 


<£>HE  (sH^ISJPIAN  IXIPB. 


4; 


HERE  are  few  who  do  not  believe  in  a  life 
beyond  the  grave,  and  that  our  happiness  or 


$JSij  misery  there,  will  depend  on  our  character 
and  conduct  here.  There  are  few  who  do  not  also  be- 
lieve in  the  existence  of  a  God,  and  that  He  has  placed 
within  us  something,  which  we  call  conscience,  by 
which  we  approve  what  is  right,  and  condemn  what  is 
wrong.  If  we  believe  in  the  existence  of  right  and 
wrong,  our  natural  instinct  teaches  us  that  there  exists 
a  principle  of  justice,  by  which,  somehow,  wrong-doing 
will  be  punished,  and  well-doing  rewarded.  These 
are  obvious  truths  which  suggest  themselves  to  our 
natural  understanding,  and  even  heathen  races  have  an 
intuitive  belief  in  the  same  doctrines.  If,  then,  we  be- 
lieve in  a  future  life,  in  the  existence  of  God,  and  in  a 
principle  of  justice,  and  all  beyond  that  seems  dark, 
what  attitude  should  reason  and  common  sense  con- 
strain us  to  take  in  reference  to  Christianity,  and  what 
judgment  shall  we  pass  upon  the  Bible?  Here  is  a 
book  which  purports  to  come  from  God  through  di- 
vinely inspired  men.  It  reveals  to  us  our  origin,  our 
destiny,  and  the  existence  and  character  of  God,  and 

of  his  moral  government.   "W  ithout  it,  we  should  grope 

142 


THE  CHRISTIAN"  LIFE. 


143 


in  darkness,  and  have  no  light  except  the  dim  and  un- 
certain glimmer  which  proceeds  from  the  natural 
world  and  our  dim  and  unaided  intuitions. 

The  wonderful  revelations  of  modern  science  are 
found  to  coincide  with  its  account  of  the  creation  of 
the  world,  and  in  all  other  particulars;  the  recent  dis- 
coveries of  records  which  have  been  hidden  for  thous- 
ands of  years,  as  well  as  profane  history,  all  attest  its 
historic  accuracy:  the  oldest  book  in  the  world,  it  has 
strangely  survived  empires  and  dynasties,  and  has 
come  down  to  us  through  seas  of  blood,  and  devastat- 
ing famines  and  plagues  which  time  and  again  have 
threatened  to  depopulate  the  earth.  Its  prophecies 
have  been  fulfilled  to  the  very  letter,  although  thev 
were  uttered  by  men  of  diverse  temperament  and  sur- 
roundings, through  a  period  extending  over  thousands 
of  vears.  Its  most  malignant  enemies  have  confessed 
that  the  system  of  morals  which  it  teaches  is  without 
parallel  elsewhere.  The  doctrines  and  precepts  which 
it  inculcates  have  swept  over  continents  and  the  isl- 
ands of  the  sea,  and  wherever  they  go  they  establish 
peace,  happiness,  refinement  and  intelligence.  The 
Bible  is  the  massive  pillar  on  which  rests  happy  homes, 
orderly  communities,  institutions  of  learning,  noble 
charities  and  free  governments.  Millions  have  died 
with  its  words  on  their  lips. — torn  by  wild  beasts  in 
Roman  amphitheatres,  in  the  thick  darkness  of  the 
catacombs,  at  the  stake  and  gibbet,  and  under  every 
conceivable  condition  of  bodily  anguish, — and  yet  thev 


144 


THE  CHRISTIAN  LIFE. 


have  triumphed  even  in  their  tortures,  and  often  their 
grand  lives  went  out  with  a  song  and  a  shout  of  vic- 
tory. Thousands  of  the  brightest  intellects  and  most 
comprehensive  minds  of  all  ages  have  left  testimony 
of  their  unalterable  faith  in  its  truth  and  inspiration,  as 
well  as  their  personal  acceptance  of  its  teachings. 
Millions  of  living  voices,  of  every  nation  and  tongue 
would  joyfully  add  their  testimony  to  the  same  ef- 
fect, and  now,  in  the  face  of  all  this,  what  course  can 
a  rational,  sensible,  fair-minded  person  take,  except  to 
receive  the  Bible  for  what  it  assumes  to  be, — the  re-, 
vealed  will  of  God.  If  the  Bible  be  thus  accepted, 
then  the  personal  obligation  is  admitted  to  diligently 
study  it  and  conform  to  its  requirements. 

Christianity  is  adapted  to  the  highest  development 
of  character  and  life.  A  writer  has  strikingly  said: 
a  It  is  too  little  considered  what  a  breadth  there  is  to 
Christianity  in  its  -relations  to  human  wants.  It  is 
adapted  to  man's  entire  constitution.  It  addresses  his 
reason.  It  enlarges  his  understanding  and  gives  act- 
ivity to  thought.  It  stimulates  the  instinctive  aspira- 
tions of  the  soul,  awakens  high  desires,  enkindles  and 
purifies  the  imagination,  and  directs  to  the  best  ends. 
It  refines  the  sensibilities,  and  imparts  warmth  and 
tenderness  to  the  affections,  and  tends  to  produce  the 
enthusiasm  which  is  essential  to  all  great  action." 

Religion  thus  tends  to  the  harmonious  growth  of  all 
the  faculties;  it  is  so  suited  to  human  needs  that  it  ele- 
vates man  to  the  highest  degree  of  perfection,  whether 


THE  CHRISTIAN  LIFE. 


H5 


considered  as  to  his  physical,  mental,  or  spiritual  nature. 

Sir  Matthew  Hale,  one  of  the  purest  and  greatest 
jurists  of  any  age,  who  was  a  devout  Christian,  said: 
"  A  man,  industrious  in  his  calling,  if  without  the  fear 
of  God,  becomes  a  drudge  to  worldly  ends;  vexed 
when  disappointed,  overjoyed  in  success.  Mingle  but 
the  fear  of  God  with  business, — it  will  not  abate  a  man's 
industry,  but  sweeten  it ;  if  he  prosper,  he  is  thank- 
ful to  God  who  gives  him  power  to  get  wealth:  if 
he  miscarry,  he  is  patient  under  the  will  and  dispensa- 
tion of  the  God  he  fears.  It  turns  the  very  employ- 
ment of  his  calling  into  a  kind  of  religious  duty  and  ex- 
ercise of  his  religion, without  damage  or  detriment  to  it.'1 

What  a  fine  example  was  that  of  applying  religion 
to  the  affairs  of  life,  when  the  young  Victoria,  then  a 
maiden  of  eighteen,  on  being  aroused  at  midnight  and 
informed  that  she  was  Queen  of  England,  requested 
the  venerable  councilor  who  conveyed  the  message,  to 
pray  with  her ;  and  they  both  knelt  in  prayer  together, 
asking  God  to  endow  her  with  strength  to  perform  Ir- 
responsible duties,  and  to  bless  her  reign. 

There  is  no  other  refuge  like  this,  for  those  burdened 
with  great  trials  and  anxieties  which  well-nigh  over- 
power them.  Charles  Lamb  wrote  of  the  woes  of  life, 
which  few  had  felt  more  keenly  than  himself:  "  For 
ills  like  these,  Christ  is  the  only  cure.  Sav  less  than 
this,  and  say  it  to  the  winds." 

The  famous  Patrick  Henry  wrote  in  his  will :  "  I 
have  now  disposed  of  all  my  property  to  my  family; 


146 


THE  CHRISTIAN  LIFE. 


there  is  one  thing  more  I  wish  I  could  give  them,  and 
that  is  the  Christian  religion.  If  they  had  that,  and  I 
had  not  given  them  one  shilling,  they  would  be  rich; 
and  if  they  had  not  that,  and  I  had  given  them  all  the 
world,  they  would  be  poor.'" 

Among  the  last  words  of  Sir  Walter  Scott  were 
these  to  his  son-in-law:  "  Lockhart,  I  may  have  but 
a  minute  to  speak  to  you.  My  dear,  be  a  good  man; 
be  virtuous;  be  religious;  be  a  good  man;  nothing  else 
will  give  you  any  comfort  when  you  come  to  lie  here." 

In  the  hour  of  death  there  is  no  hope  or  consolation 
except  in  the  exercise  of  a  religious  faith.  How  lamenta- 
ble the  cry  of  the  poor  Roman  Emperor  Adrian  as  he 
felt  the  approach  of  death:  u  O  my  poor  wandering 
soul!  alas!  whither  art  thou  going?  where  must  thou 
lodge  this  night?  Thou  shalt  never  jest  more,  never 
be  merry  more.1'  How  different  the  words  of  a  Chris- 
tian woman,  who  had  been  shipwrecked,  and  whose 
voice  was  heard  singing  in  the  darkness  as  she  was 
lashed  to  a  spar: 

"Jesus,  lover  of  my  soul, 
Let  me  to  thy  bosom  fly, 
While  the  billows  o'er  me  roll, 
While  the  tempest  still  is  high." 

When  George  III.,  King  of  England,  was  an  old 

man,  and  nearly  blind,  he  stood  over  the  death-bed  of 

his  favorite  daughter,  the  Princess  Amelia,  and  said: 

"  My  dear  child,  you  have  ever  been  a  good  child  to 

your  parents.    Your  conduct  has  been  above  reproach. 

But  I  need  not  tell  you  that  it  is  not  by  the  excellen- 


THE  CHRISTIAN  LIFE. 


147 


cies  of  your  character  alone  that  you  can  be  saved. 
Your  acceptance  with  God  must  depend  on  your  faith 
and  trust  in  the  Lord  Jesus. "  "  I  know  it,"  replied  the 
dying  princess,  "  and  I  can  wish  for  no  better  trust." 

A  few  days  before  Coleridge,  the  poet,  died,  he 
wrote  to  his  god-child:  "  On  the  eve  of  my  departure, 
I  declare  to  you  that  health  is  a  great  blessing;  com- 
petence, obtained  by  honorable  industry,  a  great  bless- 
ing; and  a  great  blessing  it  is  to  have  kind,  faithful  and 
loving  friends  and  relatives;  but  that  the  greatest  bless- 
ing, as  it  is  the  most  ennobling  of  all  privileges,  is  to  be 
indeed  a  Christian." 

Such  is  religion, — the  gracious  power  which  can  dig- 
nify and  ennoble  the  character,  develop  the  whole  be- 
ing, exalt  the  life,  and  fill  it  with  rational  enjoyment, 
and  in  the  presence  of  death  afford  a  hope  and  consola- 
tion more  valuable  than  the  whole  universe  beside. 

Church  of  the  living  God!  in  vain  thy  foes 

Make  thee,  in  impious  mirth,  their  laughing  stock, 
Contemn  thy  strength,  thy  radiant  beauty  mock; 

In  vain  their  threats,  and  impotent  their  blows — 

Satan's  assault — Hell's  agonizing  throes! 
For  thou  art  built  upon  th'  Eternal  Rock, 
Nor  fear'st  the  thunder  storm,  the  earthquake  shock, 

And  nothing  shall  disturb  thy  calm  repose. 

All  human  combinations  change  and  die, 
Whate'er  their  origin,  form,  design ; 

But  firmer  than  the  pillars  of  the  sky. 
Thou  standest  ever  by  a  power  Divine; 

Thou  art  endowed  with  immortality, 

And  can'st  not  perish — God's  own  life  is  thine? 

Wm.  Lloyd  Garrison, 


f{  <5aij^  mo  the  Boys. 


ORACE  MANN,  one  of  the  best  friends  to 
boys  that  ever  lived,  drew  a  picture  of  a 
young  man  over  whom  angels  and  demons 
were  hovering,  and  contending  for  the  mas- 
tery of  his  soul.  The  conception  is  not  a  flight  of  fancy, 
but  is  a  terrible  reality.   Fortunately,  however,  you  are 
not  passive  spectators,  but  have  the  power  within  your- 
selves to  choose  which  of  the  two  shall  take  possession 
of  your  lives.    That  line  of  Wordsworth's,  "  The 
child  is  father  to  the  man,"  is  worth  thinking  about. 
It  means  that  the  habits,  the  principles,  and  the  drift  of 
life  which  you  choose  while  you  are  boys,  will  go  with 
you  into  manhood,  and  will  determine  what  kind  of  a 
man  you  will  be.   It  has  been  said  of  Benedict  Arnold, 
the  traitor,  that  he  "  was  the  only  general  in  the 
American  Revolution  who  disgraced  his  country.  He 
had  superior  military  talent,  indomitable  energy,  and  a 
courage  equal  to  any  emergency.     The  capture  of 
Burgoyne's  army  was  due  more  to  Arnold  than  to 
Gates;  and  in  the  fatal  expedition  against  Quebec,  he 
showed  rare  powers  of  leadership.    Had  his  character 
been  equal  to  his  talents,  he  would  have  won  a  place 
beside  Washington  and  Green,  inferior  only  to  them 

in  ability  and  achievements.    But  he  began  life  badly, 

148 


A  TALK  TO  THE  BOYS. 


149 


and  it  is  not  surprising  that  he  ended  it  in  disgrace. 
When  a  boy,  he  was  detested  for  selfishness  and  cru- 
elty. He  took  delight  in  torturing  insects  and  birds, 
that  he  might  watch  their  sufferings.  He  scattered 
pieces  of  glass  and  sharp  tacks  on  the  floor  of  the  shop 
he  tended,  that  the  barefooted  boys  who  visited  it 
might  have  sore  and  bleeding  feet.  The  selfish  cruelty 
of  boyhood  grew  stronger  in  manhood.  It  went  with 
him  into  the  army.  He  was  hated  by  the  soldiers,  and 
distrusted  by  the  officers,  in  spite  of  his  bravery, 
and  at  last  became  a  traitor  to  his  country." 

What  a  contrast  to  this  picture  is  that  of  the  gal- 
lant old  Christian  hero,  Admiral  Farragut.  Listen  to 
what  he  said  of  his  boyish  life,  and  of  how  he  started 
to  be  a  man:  "  When  I  was  ten  years  old,  I  was  with 
my  father  on  board  a  man-of-war.  I  had  some  quali- 
ties that,  I  thought,  made  a  man  of  me.  I  could  swear 
like  an  old  salt,  could  drink  as  stiff  a  glass  of  grog  as 
if  I  had  doubled  Cape  Horn,  and  could  smoke  like  a 
locomotive.  I  was  great  at  cards,  and  fond  of  gaming 
in  every  shape.  At  the  close  of  dinner,  one  day,  my 
father  turned  everybody  out  of  the  cabin,  locked  the 
door,  and  said  to  me,  '  David,  what  do  you  mean  to 
be?'  'I  mean  to  follow  the  sea.'  '  Follow  the  sea! 
Yes,  to  be  a  poor,  miserable,  drunken  sailor  before 
the  mast;  be  kicked  and  cuffed  about  the  world, 
and  die  in  some  fever  hospital  in  a  foreign  land. 
No,  David ;  no  boy  ever  trod  the  quarter-deck  with 
such  principles  as  you  have,  and  such  habits  as  you 


A  TALK  TO  THE  BOYS. 


exhibit.  You  will  have  to  change  your  whole  course 
of  life  if  you  ever  become  a  man.''  My  father  left  me 
and  went  on  deck.  I  was  stunned  by  the  rebuke,  and 
overwhelmed  with  mortification.  '  A  poor,  miserable, 
drunken  sailor  before  the  mast !  Be  kicked  and  cuffed 
about  the  world,  and  die  in  some  fever  hospital! 
That  is  to  be  my  fate,'  thought  I.  '  Til  change  my  life, 
and  change  it  at  once.  I  will  never  utter  another 
oath;  I  will  never  drink  another  drop  of  intoxicating 
liquor;  I  will  never  gamble.''  I  have  kept  these  three 
vows  ever  since.  Shortly  after  I  had  made  them  I 
became  a  Christian.  That  act  was  the  turning-point 
in  my  destiny." 

If  you  have  the  impression  that  people  admire  an 
impudent  boy,  who  thinks  it  is  smart  and  manly  to 
drink,  or  smoke,  or  swear,  you  are  greatly  mistaken. 
Some  one  has  drawn  a  picture  of  him,  and  we  ask  you 
whether  you  think  it  is  worth  while  to  try  to  be  like 
him:  "He  may  be  seen  any  day,  in  almost  any  street 
in  the  village;  he  never  makes  room  for  you  on  the 
sidewalk,  looks  at  you  saucily,  and  swears  smartly  if 
asked  anything;  he  is  very  impudent,  and  often  vulgar 
to  ladies  who  pass;  he  delights  in  frightening,  and 
sometimes  does  serious  injury  to,  little  boys  and  girls ; 
he  lounges  at  the  street  corners,  and  is  the  first 
arrival  at  a  dog-fight,  or  any  other  sport  or  scrape;  he 
crowds  into  the  postoffice  in  the  evening,  and  multi- 
plies himself  and  his  antics  at  such  a  rate  that  people 
having  legitimate  business  there  are  crowded  out. 


A  TALK  TO  THE  BOYS, 


And  bethinks  himself  very  sharp;  he  is  certainly  very 
noisy;  he  can  smoke  and  chew  tobacco  now  and  then, 
and  rip  out  an  oath  most  any  time.'1 

You  must  remember  that  if  you  amount  to  anything 
in  the  world,  it  will  be  mainly  through  your  own  efforts. 
You  may  have  good  friends,  but  they  cannot  make  your 
character  or  habits, —  these  are  of  your  own  fashioning. 

Some  one,  in  an  excellent  talk  to  boys,  says  that  a 
boy  is  something  like  a  bar  of  iron,  which  in  its 
natural  state  is  worth  about  five  dollars;  if  made  into 
horseshoes,  twelve  dollars;  but  by  being  worked  into 
balance  springs  for  watches,  it  is  worth  two  hundred 
r  zd  fifty  thousand  dollars,  and  then  adds:  uBut  the 
iron  has  to  go  through  a  great  deal  of  hammering  and 
beating,  and  rolling  and  pounding,  and  polishing,  and 
so,  if  you  are  to  become  useful  and  educated  men,  you 
must  go  through  a  long  course  of  study  and  training. 
The  more  time  you  spend  in  hard  study,  the  better 
material  you  will  make.  The  iron  doesn \  have  to  go 
through  half  as  much  to  be  made  into  horseshoes  as  it 
does  to  be  converted  into  delicate  watch-springs,  but 
think  how  much  less  valuable  it  is.  Which  would  you 
rather  be,  horseshoes,  or  watch-springs?  It  depends 
on  yourselves.  You  can  become  whichever  you  will. 
This  is  your  time  of  preparation  for  manhood.11 

A  wise  man  has  said  that  "  When  forenoons  of  life 
are  wasted,  there  is  not  much  hope  of  a  peaceful  and 
fruitful  evening.  Sun-risings  and  sun-settings  are 
closely  connected  in  every  experience/1 


152 


A  TALK  TO  THE  BOYS. 


Youth  is  the  golden  time  in  life  for  acquiring  knowl- 
edge. Your  minds  are  free  from  harassing  care  and 
anxiety,  and  you  have  the  time  to  read  the  best  books 
as  you  will  never  have  again.  It  is  worth  while  to  be  a 
boy,  to  read  some  good  books  for  the  first  time.  There  is 
Pilgrim's  Progress,  Robinson  Crusoe,  Schonberg  Cotta 
Family,  School  Days  at  Rugby,  and  many  others, 
which  afford  the  greatest  pleasure  to  any  boy  who  has 
a  healthy,  boyish  nature.  If  you  are  working  hard 
during  the  day,  you  have  still  the  long  evenings  and 
rainy  days,  and  the  fact  that  your  reading  has  to  be 
done  during  your  odd  moments  of  leisure,  gives  it  a 
relish  that  an  idle  boy  can  never  understand. 

A  writer  has  given  some  excellent  suggestions  as  to 
the  use  of  one's  evenings,  and  happy  the  boy  who  lays 
them  to  heart  and  profits  by  them :  ' '  The  boy  who  spends 
an  hour  of  each  evening  lounging  idly  on  the  street  cor- 
ners, wastes  in  the  course  of  a  year  three  hundred  and  six- 
ty-five precious  hours,  which,  if  applied  to  study,  would 
familiarize  him  with  the  rudiments  of  almost  any  of 
the  familiar  sciences.  If,  in  addition  to  wasting  an 
hour  each  evening,  he  spends  ten  cents  for  a  cigar, 
which  is  usually  the  case,  the  amount  thus  worse  than 
wasted  would  pay  for  ten  of  the  leading  periodicals  of 
the  country.  Boys,  think  of  these  things.  Think  of 
how  much  time  and  money  you  are  wasting,  and  for 
what?  The  gratification  afforded  by  the  lounge  on 
the  corner,  or  the  cigar,  is  not  only  temporary,  but 
positively  hurtful.    You  cannot  indulge  in  them  with- 


A  TALK  TO  THE  BOYS 


153 


out  seriously  injuring  yourself.  You  acquire  idle  and 
wasteful  habits,  which  will  eling  to  you  with  each  suc- 
ceeding vear.  You  may  in  after  life  shake  them  off. 
but  the  probabilities  are.  that  the  habits  thus  formed 
in  early  life  will  remain  with  you  till  your  dying  da}". 
Be  warned,  then,  in  time,  and  resolve  that,  as  the  hour 
spent  in  idleness  is  gone  forever,  you  will  improve  each 
passing  one,  and  thereby  lit  yourself  for  usefulness  and 
happiness. " 

It  is  well  for  you  to  learn  early  in  life  the  value  of 
money,  As  long  as  you  spend  what  some  one  else 
has  earned,  you  do  not  realize  what  it  is  worth,  but 
probably  the  time  will  come  when  you  will  find  out 
how  much  hard  work  a  dollar  represents.  It  is  said 
that  *'A  silver  dollar  represents  a  day's  work  of  the 
laborer.  If  it  is  given  to  a  boy.  he  has  no  idea  of 
what  it  has  cost,  or  of  what  it  is  worth.  He  would  be 
as  likely  to  give  a  dollar  as  a  dime  for  a  top  or  any 
other  toy.  But  if  the  boy  has  learned  to  earn  his 
dimes  and  dollars  by  the  sweat  of  his  face,  he  knows 
the  difference.  Hard  work  is  to  him  a  measure  of 
values  that  can  never  be  rubbed  out  of  his  mind.  Let 
him  learn  by  experience  that  a  hundred  dollars  means 
a  hundred  weary  days'  labor,  and  it  seems  a  great 
sum  of  money.  A  thousand  dollars  is  a  fortune,  and 
ten  thousand  is  almost  inconceivable,  for  it  is  far  more 
than  he  ever  expects  to  possess.  When  he  has  earned 
a  dollar  he  thinks  twice  before  he  spends  it.1' 

Another  good  thing  to  remember  is  the  importance 


*54 


A  TALK  TO  THE  BOYS. 


of  things  which  seem  to  you  but  trifles.  Nothing  is  a 
trifle  which  tends  to  promote  careful  habits  or  build 
character.  This  story  is  told  of  the  eccentric  Phila- 
delphia millionaire,  Stephen  Girarcl:  u  He  once  tested 
the  quality  of  a  boy  who  applied  for  a  situation,  by 
giving  him  a  match  loaded  at  both  ends  and  ordering 
him  to  light  it.  The  boy  struck  the  match,  and  after 
it  had  burned  half  its  length  threw  it  away.  Girard 
dismissed  him  because  he  did  not  save  the  other  end 
for  future  use.  The  boy's  failure  to  notice  that  the 
match  was  a  double-ended  one  was  natural  enough," 
considering  how  matches  are  generally  made;  but 
haste  and  heedlessness  (a  habit  of  careless  observation) 
are  responsible  for  a  greater  part  of  the  waste  of  prop- 
erty in  the  world."" 

Said  one  of  the  most  successful  merchants  of  a  west- 
ern city,  to  a  lad  who  was  opening  a  parcel,  "  Young 
man,  untie  the  strings;  do  not  cut  them." 

It  was  the  first  remark  he  had  made  to  a  new  em- 
ploye. It  was  the  first  lesson  the  lad  had  to  learn, 
and  it  involved  the  principles  of  success  or  failure  in  his 
business  career.  Pointing  to  a  well-dressed  man  be- 
hind the  counter,  he  said:  "  There  is  a  man  who  al- 
"  ways  whips  out  his  scissors  and  cuts  the  strings  of  the 
packages  in  three  or  four  places.  He  is  a  good  sales- 
man, but  he  will  never  be  anything  more.  I  presume 
he  lives  from  hand  to  mouth,  and  is  more  or  less  in  debt. 
The  trouble  with  him  is,  that  he  was  never  taught  to 
save,    I  told  the  boy  just  now  to  untie  the  strings,  not 


A  TALK  TO  THE  BOYS. 


155 


so  much  for  the  value  of  the  string,  as  to  teach  him 
that  everything  is  to  be  saved  and  nothing  wasted." 

I  would  say  to  every  boy:  "  Be  courteous.11  It 
costs  nothing  but  a  kind  thoughtfulness  and  regard  for 
the  feelings  of  others,  and  it  makes  the  atmosphere 
around  you  genial  and  sunny,  and  invariably  wins 
friends.  You  owe  it  to  yourselves  as  well  as  to  others, 
to  constantly  practice  the  little  courtesies  of  life. 
Many  a  situation  has  been  secured,  or  lost,  through 
courtesy,  or  the  lack  of  it. 

It  is  related  that  a  boy  once  applied  at  a  store  for  a 
situation.  He  was  asked:  "  Can  you  write  a  good 
hand?"  "  Yaas,"  was  the  answer.  "Are  you  good 
at  figures?11  "  Yaas,1'  was  the  answer  again.  "  That 
will  do — I  do  not  want  you,1''  said  the  merchant. 
After  the  boy  had  gone,  a  friend,  who  knew  him  well, 
said  to  the  merchant,  "  I  know  that  lad  to  be  an  hon- 
est, industrious  boy.  Why  don^  you  give  him  a 
chance?11  "Because  he  hasn't  learned  to  say  'Yes, 
sir,1  and  'No,  sir,1 11  said  the  merchant.  "  If  he  answers 
me  as  he  did  when  applying  for  a  situation,  how  will 
he  answer  customers  after  being  here  a  month.11 

A  willingness  to  work  faithfully,  though  in  the 
humblest  capacity,  has  oftentimes  proved  a  stepping- 
stone  to  positions  of  honor  and  trust. 

Sir  Humphrey  Davy  was  once  asked  to  give  a  list  of 
the  greatest  discoveries  which  he  had  made.  He  re- 
plied that  his  greatest  discovery  was  Michael  Faraday. 
He  found  him,  a  poor  boy,  washing  bottles  in  his 


1 56 


A  TALK  TO  THE  BOYS. 


laboratory,  and  aided  him,  until  he  became  one  of  the 
world's  greatest  men.  If  Michael  had  been  at  play  in- 
stead of  washing  bottles,  however,  Sir  Humphrey  prob- 
ably would  not  have  become  interested  in  him,  and  if 
he  had  not  been  faithful  in  his  humble  duties  he  would 
have  failed  when  given  greater  work.  It  is  the  boy 
who  washes  a  bottle  honestly,  who  is  most  likely  to 
have  large  success  as  a  man. 

Every  boy  who  has  any  ambition  is  anxious  to  suc- 
ceed in  life.  You  may  not  have  decided  just  what 
your  life  work  shall  be,  but  you  feel  a  consuming  de- 
sire to  do  something,  and  to  do  it  well.  Be  sure  and 
master  some  occupation  or  calling  that  will  afford  you, 
by  industry,  sobriety  and  frugality,  a  livelihood,  and  in 
time,  a  competence.  Do  not  make  the  mistake  of 
those  deluded  creatures  who  despise  honest  labor  and 
seek  some  genteel  employment,  and  finally  drift  into 
that  large  class  who  live  by  their  wits,  and  their  petty 
meannesses  and  deceptions.  Live  so  as  to  look  every 
man  or  woman  squarely  in  the  face,  not  in  brazen  im- 
pudence, but  in  the  consciousness  of  an  upright  life.  A 
wise  man  has  given  these  rules,  which,  if  followed,  will 
do  much  toward  the  formation  of  worthy  .character 
and  good  business  habits:  "  Attend  carefully  to  de- 
tails. Best  things  are  difficult  to  get.  Cultivate 
promptness,  order  and  regularity.  Do  not  seek  a  quar- 
rel where  there  is  an  opportunity  of  escaping.  Endure 
trials  patiently.  Fight  life's  battles  bravely.  Give 
when  you  can,  but  give  from  principle,  not  because  it 


A  TALK  TO  THE  BOYS.  1 57 

is  fashionable.  He  who  follows  two  hares  is  sure  to 
catch  neither.  Injure  no  one's  reputation  or  business. 
Join  hands  only  with  the  virtuous.  Keep  Your  mind 
from  evil  thoughts.  Learn  to  think  and  act  for  your- 
self. Make  new  friends.  Never  try  to  appear  what 
you  are  not.  Question  no  man's  veracity  without 
cause.  Respect  your  word  as  you  would  your  bond. 
Say  "no "  firmly  and  respectfully  when  necessary. 
Touch  not.  taste  not.  handle  not  the  cup  which  intox- 
icates. Use  your  own  brains  rather  than  those  of  others." 

There  are  special  temptations  which  will  come  to 
you  with  overwhelming  power.  One  of  these  is  the 
use  of  tobacco  in  some  of  its  forms.  It  may  seem  to 
you  a  manly  thing  to  puff  a  cigar,  but  depend  upon  it 
you  will  lower  yourself  in  the  estimation  of  your  best 
friends  by  so  doing.  There  are  good  physical  reasons 
also  why  you  should  let  it  alone.  A  writer  says  of  it : 
••It  has  utterly  ruined  thousands  of  boys.  It  tends  to 
the  softening  of  the  bones,  and  it  greatly  injures  the 
brain,  the  spinal  marrow,  and  the  whole  nervous  fluid. 
A  bov  who  smokes  early  and  frequently,  or  in  any  way 
uses  large  quantities  of  tobacco,  is  never  known  to 
make  a  man  of  much  energy,  and  generally  lacks 
muscular  and  physical,  as  well  as  mental  power.  We 
would  warn  boys,  who  want  to  be  anything  in  the 
world,  to  shun  tobacco  as  a  most  baneful  poison. 71 

"  Then,  too.  it  will  be  a  daily  leak  in  your  pocket. 
Before  you  begin  to  imitate  the  boy  or  man  who  is 
fascinating  to  you,  simply  because  he  has  in  his  mouth 


I58  A  TALK  TO  THE  BOYS. 

a  disgusting  weed,  or  a  few  leaves  rolled  up,  just  stop 
and  make  an  estimate  of  what  this  habit  costs  him 
daily.  Multiply  that  by  three  hundred  and  sixty- 
five,  and  then  by  the  number  of  years  between 
your  age  and  the  good  old  age  you  hope  to  at- 
tain, and  see  if  it  does  not  look  a  little  less  worthy 
of  your  admiration  and  approval.  Of  how  many  com- 
forts must  the  laborer  and  his  family  be  denied  that 
the  father  may  have  his  pipe.  If  it  is  a  desirable 
habit,  then  it  is  time  that  your  mother  and  sisters 
shared  it  with  you.  Above  all,  boys,  you  who  so  en- 
joy your  freedom  that  you  are  sometimes  almost 
tempted  to  be  impatient  of  the  home  control,  which 
love  makes  only  as  a  silken  cord,  consider  well  before 
you  let  this,  or  any  other  habit,  forge  its  links  about 
you  day  by  day,  until,  instead  of  the  God-given  free- 
dom which  should  be  }Tours  to  exercise,  you  find 
yourself  a  slave." 

And  so,  too,  of  the  intoxicating  cup.  Let  nothing 
persuade  you  to  touch,  taste,  or  handle  it.  Take 
warning  from  the  fate  of  others,  who  once  were  as 
strong  and  promising  as  yourself.  Gough,  the  great 
temperance  orator,  once  related  this  incident  to  show 
to  what  depth  our  poor  humanity  could  fall  when  in 
the  power  of  this  debasing  vice:  A  young  wife  and 
mother  lay  in  an  ill-furnished  and  comfortless  room, 
dying.  Years  before  she  had  stood  at  the  marriage 
altar,  beside  the  man  of  her  choice,  as  fair  and  hopeful 
a  bride  as  ever  took  a  vow.    Her  young  husband 


A  TALK  TO  THE  BOYS. 


159 


loved  her,  at  least  so  he  said,  and  he  solemnly  vowed 
to  love  her  to  the  end;  but  he  loved  liquor  more  than 
he  loved  his  young  and  beautiful  wife.  It  soon  began 
to  dawn  upon  her  mind  that  she  was  in  that  most  hor- 
rible of  all  positions — a  position  a  thousand  times 
worse  than  widowhood  or  the  grave, — a  position  than 
which  there  are  only  two  worse  possible, — Hell,  and 
that  of  a  drunkard's  husband, — I  mean  the  heart- 
rending, degrading  position  of  a  drunkard's  wife, 
She  u^ed  every  means  to  reform  him,  but,  like  too 
many  ethers,  fcund  her  efforts  useless.  His  cruelty 
and  debauchery  soon  brought  her  to  the  grave. 

A  little  before  she  died,  she  asked  him  to  come  to 
her  bed-side,  and  pleaded  with  him  once  more  for  the 
sake  of  their  children,  soon  to  be  motherless,  to  drink 

no  more.    With  her  thin,  lon^  fingers  she  held  his 

'.00 

hand,  and  as  she  pleaded  with  him  he  promised  in  this 
terribly  solemn  way:  "  Mary^  I  will  drink  no  more 
till  I  take  it  out  of  this  hand  which  I  hold  in  mine/1 
That  very  night  he  poured  out  a  tumbler  of  brandy, 
stole  into  the  room  where  she  lay  cold  in  her  coffin, 
put  the  tumbler  into  her  withered  hand  and  then  took 
it  out  and  drained  it  to  the  bottom.  This  is  a  scene  from 
real  life,  and  is  not  more  revolting  than  hundreds  of 
others  which  are  happening  in  miserable,  drink-cursed 
homes.  In  this  matter  do  not  be  content  w:.ch  merely 
saving  yourself,  but  work  to  save  others.  Take  sides 
against  this  evil,  and  be  a  champion  for  purity,  sobriety 
and  a  high  manhood. 


A  TALK  TO  THE  BOYS. 


Learn  early  to  value  your  good  name,  and  guard  it 
as  you  would  your  life.  Your  character  is  your  best 
capital  and  fortune.  During  the  war  of  the  rebellion 
the  most  decisive  movement  of  the  whole  campaign, 
depended  on  the  character  of  a  boy.  It  is  said  that  the 
Confederate  General,  Robert  E.  Lee,  while  in  conver- 
sation with  one  of  his  officers,  was  overheard  by  a 
plain  farmer's  boy  to  remark  that  he  had  decided  to 
march  upon  Gettysburg  instead  of  Harrisburg.  The 
lad  watched  to  see  if  the  troops  went  in  that  direction, 
and  then  telegraphed  the  fact  to  Governor  Curtin.  The 
boy  was  sent  for  at  once,  by  a  special  engine,  and 
as  the  Governor  and  his  friends  stood  about,  the 
former  remarked  anxiously,  "  I  would  give  my  right 
hand  to  know  that  this  lad  tells  the  truth."  A  cor- 
poral promptly  replied,  "  Governor  Curtin,  I  know 
that  boy.  I  lived  in  the  same  neighborhood,  and  I 
know  that  it  is  impossible  for  him  to  lie.  There  is  not 
a  drop  of  false  blood  in  his  veins,"  In  fifteen  minutes 
from  that  time  the  Union  troops  were  pushing  on 
towards  Gettysburg,  where  they  gained  the  victory. 

There  is  one  safeguard  against  all  the  allurements 
and  pitfalls  which  are  set  to  entrap  the  young, — and 
that  is  to  take  upon  yourself  the  Christian  life  and  pro- 
fession, accepting  the  Bible  as  your  guide  and  teacher. 
With  your  feet  firmly  established  on  the  "  Rock  of 
Ages,"  you  will  have  that  strength  and  courage  which 
will  enable  you  to  overcome  the  evil  which  assails  you, 
and  make  the  most  of  life  both  for  yourself  and  others 


A^^^^^OU  desire  to  be  a  lady.  Did  you  ever 
^NHffe''  take  time  to  think  how  much  this  involves, 
JL£§ft  and  how  you  are  to  become  one?  This  is  a 
picture  of  her:  "A  lady  must  possess  per- 
fect refinement  and  intelligence.  She  must  be  gracious, 
affable  and  hospitable,  without  the  slightest  degree  of 
fussiness.  She  must  be  a  Christian,  mild,  gentle  and 
charitable,  unostentatious,  and  doing  good  by  stealth. 
She  must  be  deaf  to  scandal  and  gossip.  She  must 
possess  discrimination,  knowledge  of  human  nature, 
and  tact  sufficient  to  avoid  offending  one's  weak  points, 
steering  wide  of  all  subjects  which  may  be  disagreea- 
ble to  any  one.  She  must  look  upon  personal  cleanli- 
ness and  freshness  of  attire  as  next  to  godliness.  Her 
dress  must  be  in  accordance  with  her  means,  not  flashy. 
Abhorring  everything  like  soiled  or  faded  finery,  or 
mock  jewelry,  her  pure  mind  and  clear  conscience  will 
cause  the  foot  of  time  to  pass  as  lightly  over  the 
smooth  brow  as  if  she  stepped  on  flowers,  and,  as  she 
moves  with  quiet  grace  and  dignity,  all  will  accord 
her  instinctively  the  title  of  lad}7.'" 

Is  it  not  worth  while  to  strive  to  become  such  a  be- 
ing as  the  one  we  have  described?    Like  her,  you 

must  be  gentle  and  kind  to  others. 

161 


l62 


A  TALK  TO  THE  GIRLS. 


Queen  Victoria  once  opened  a  large  hospital  with 
imposing  ceremonies.  Afterwards  she  passed  through 
it,  tenderly  inquiring  about  the  sufferers.  One  of 
them,  a  little  child  four  years  old,  had  said:  "If  I 
could  only  see  the  Queen,  I  would  get  well."  Im- 
mediately the  motherly  Queen  requested  to  be  led  into 
the  little  children's  ward.  Seating  herself  by  the  bed 
of  the  little  sufferer,  she  said,  in  gentle  tones:  "My 
darling,  I  hope  you  will  be  a  little  better  now."  It  was 
a  simple  act,  but  it  was  worthy  of  the  queenly  woman. 

A  charming  story  is  told  of  Jenny  Lind,  the  great 
Swedish  singer,  which  shows  her  noble  nature.  Once 
when  walking  with  a  friend,  she  saw  an  old  woman 
tottering  into  the  door  of  an  almshouse.  Her  pity  was 
at  once  excited,  and  she  entered  the  door,  ostensibly 
to  rest  for  a  moment,  but  really  to  give  something  to 
the  poor  woman.  To  her  surprise,  the  old  woman  be- 
gan at  once  to  talk  of  Jenny  Lind,  saying, — 

"  I  have  lived  a  long  time  in  the  world,  and  desire 
nothing  before  I  die  but  to  hear  Jenny  Lind." 

"  Would  it  make  you  happy?"  inquired  Jenny . 

"  Ay,  that  it  would;  but  such  folks  as  I  can't  go  to 
the  play-house,  and  so  I  shall  never  hear  her." 

"  Don't  be  so  sure  of  that,"  said  Jenny.  "  Sit  down, 
my  friend,  and  listen." 

She  then  sung,  with  genuine  glee,  one  of  her  best 
songs.  The  old  woman  was  wild  with  delight  and 
wonder,  when  she  added, — 

"  Now  you  have  heard  Jenny  Lind." 


A  TALK  TO  THE  GIRLS.  1 63 

One  who  could  go  out  of  her  way  to  do  such  a  kind- 
ness to  a  poor  old  woman,  must  have  had  a  noble  na- 
ture, worthy  of  her  grand  success. 

Cultivate  a  sweet  voice.  Some  one  has  said : 
"  There  is  no  power  of  love  so  hard  to  get  and  keep 
as  a  kind  voice.  A  kind  hand  is  deaf  and  dumb.  It 
may  be  rough  in  flesh  and  blood,  yet  do  the  work  of  a 
soft  heart,  and  do  it  with  a  soft  touch.  But  there  is 
no  one  thing  that  love  so  much  needs  as  a  sweet  voice 
to  tell  what  it  means  and  feels,  and  it  is  hard  to  get  it 
and  keep  it  in  the  right  tone.  One  must  start  in 
youth,  and  be  on  the  watch  night  and  day,  at  work, 
at  play,  to  get  and  keep  a  voice  that  shall  speak  at  all 
times  the  thoughts  of  a  kind  heart.  But  this  is  the 
time  when  a  sharp  voice  is  most  apt  to  be  got.  You 
often  hear  boys  and  girls  say  words  at  play  with  a 
quick,  sharp  tone,  as  if  it  were  the  snap  of  a  whip. 
Such  as  these  get  a  sharp  home  voice  for  use,  and  keep 
their  best  voice  for  those  they  meet  elsewhere.  I 
would  say  to  all  boys  and  girls,  "  Use  your  guest 
voice  at  home.1'  Watch  it  by  day  as  a  pearl  of  great 
price,  for  it  will  be  worth  to  you,  in  the  days  to  come, 
more  than  the  best  pearl  hid  in  the  sea.  A  kind 
voice  is  a  lark's  song  to  a  hearth  and  home.  It  is  to 
the  heart  what  light  is  to  the  eye.'" 

Thoreau  said:  "  Be  not  simply  good,  but  good  for 
something.'" 

Aim  to  acquire  a  thorough  knowledge  of  housekeep- 
ing, and  to  this  end  cheerfully  take  upon  yourself  such 


164  A  TALK  TO  THE  GIRLS. 

parts  of  it  as  are  suited  to  your  age  and  strength.  Is 
it  not  a  pitiful  sight  to  see  a  strong  and  naturally  capa- 
ble girl  assume  the  indolent  airs  of  a  lady  of  ease,  while 
her  poor  mother  is  nearly  exhausted  by  the  hard  work 
of  the  kitchen.  If  your  mother,  from  mistaken  indulg- 
ence, would  permit  such  conduct  on  your  part,  do  not, 
for  your  own  sake  as  well  as  hers,  allow  yourself  to 
follow  such  a  selfish  course,  but  take  some  share  in  the 
toils  and  cares  of  the  household,  and  you  will  then  have 
the  happy  consciousness  of  doing  your  duty  and  living 
to  some  purpose.  Learn  to  be  self-reliant  by  fitting 
yourself  for  some  occupation  by  which  you  can 
earn,  if  need  be,  a  livelihood  by  your  own  efforts. 

Madame  de  Stael,  that  brilliant  French  authoress, 
said:  "It  is  not  of  these  writings  that  lam  proud,  but 
of  the  fact  that  I  have  facility  in  ten  occupations,  in 
any  one  of  which  I  could  make  a  livelihood." 

The  wheel  of  fortune  never  revolved  more  swiftly 
than  now,  and  the  rich  to-day  are  poor  to-morrow. 
The  most  pitiable  instances  of  suffering  and  destitution 
are  among  those  who  have  fallen  from  opulence,  and 
are  incapable  of  earning  their  own  living. 

A  practical  writer,  in  referring  to  this  subject,  thus 
alludes  to  the  sensible  girl :  u  She  is  not  merely  a  doll 
to  be  petted,  or  a  bird  to  be  supported;  but,  though 
she  may  be  blessed  with  a  father,  able  and  willing  to 
care  for  her  every  want,  she  cultivates  her  capabilities. 
She  seeks  to  prepare  herself  for  possibilities,  and, 
though  she  may  not  need  to,  she  qualifies  herself  to 


A  TALK  TO  THE  GIRLS. 


I65 


feed  and  clothe  herself,  so  that,  if  left  alone,  she  can 
stand  upon  her  own  feet,  dependent  upon  no  human 
being.  With  the  multiplied  ways  of  honest  toil  now 
open  for  young  women,  it  seems  quite  excuseless  for 
any  one  of  them  to  be  helpless.  There  are  few  nobler 
sights  than  that  of  a  young  woman  who,  though  she 
may  have  a  good  home  with  father  and  mother  who 
are  willing  to  indulge  her  to  the  utmost,  realizing  the 
limitation  of  their  means,  and  their  hard  self-denial, 
says,  '  Father  shall  not  be  burdened  by  me;  I  will  be 
self-reliant  and  clothe  myself;  yea,  I  will  help  him  pay 
for  the  farm,  help  him  educate  the  younger  children.'' 
Such  an  one  is  a  thousand  times  superior  to  the  pale- 
fingered,  befrizzled,  bejeweled  substitutes  for  young 
women,  who  are  good  for  nothing  but  to  spend  a 
father's  hard-earned  money.1' 

The  field  of  woman's  work  has  been  wonderfully 
widening,  and  there  are  now  many  pursuits  in  which 
she  can  profitably  engage.  Try  to  find  out  what  you 
can  do  best,  and  then  spare  no  pains  to  perfect  yourself 
in  it.  There  will  always  be  a  place  for  those  who 
can  do  the  right  work  in  the  right  way. 

Treasure  your  good  name  as  your  most  precious 
jewel.  Remember  that  your  conduct  now  is  the  basis 
of  your  reputation,  and  you  cannot  guard  it  too  care- 
fully. A  person  of  excellent  judgment  has  well  said : 
"  When  a  young  lady,  no  matter  how  innocent  of  any- 
thing worse  than  a  determination  to  amuse  herself  at 
all  hazards,  condescends  to  flirt  with  gentlemen,  or  to 


A  TALK  TO  THE  GIRLS. 


indulge  in  boisterous  behavior  in  public  places  with 
other  girls,  she  must  not  be  surprised  if,  before  long, 
she  becomes  aware  of  less  heartiness  in  the  greetings 
of  the  acquaintances  whose  society  she  prizes  most, 
receives  fewer  invitations  from  anybody,  and  at  last  per- 
ceives, with  painful  clearness,  that  she  is  actually,  even 
if  undemonstratively,  avoided,  except  by  those  whom 
she  now  does  not  wish  to  meet.1'' 

A  lady  is  scrupulously  particular  as  to  the  company 
she  keeps,  and  scorns  to  associate  with  those  who  are 
unworthy  of  her.  If  you  allow  yourself  to  be  indiffer- 
ent in  this  regard,  your  good  name  will  become 
tarnished.  Besides,  you  expose  yourself  to  the  most 
terrible  dangers,  for  thousands  of  wicked,  miserable 
lives  have  been  made  so  by  a  fatal  lack  of  carefulness 
*  in  this  respect.  There  are  two  excellent  rules  which, 
if  followed,  would  save  thousands  of  young  lives  from 
ruin.  One  is,  to  make  of  your  mother,  or  some  one 
who  stands  in  her  place,  a  confidant  and  adviser,  for 
you  will  never  need  the  counsels  of  wisdom  and  experi- 
ence more  than  now.  The  other  is,  if  you  are  ever 
about  to  take  a  step,  and  have  some  doubts  in  your 
mind  whether  it  is  prudent  or  proper,  stop  short  and 
refuse  to  go  farther.  You  would  say  that  the  man 
was  a  lunatic  who  would  step  off  boldly  and  confi- 
dently in  the  darkness,  in  a  region  full  of  pitfalls,  but 
he  would  not  be  more  so  than  you  would  be,  if  you 
entered  dangerous  and  forbidden  ground  in  spite  of  the 
warnings  of  your  friends  and  your  own  better  judg- 


A  TALK  TO  THE  GIRLS. 


ment.  Perhaps  you  are  discontented  with  your  home, 
and  are  longing  to  go  out  intp  the  world  to  engage  in 
some  great  and  noble  work.  Beware!  for  many  a 
heart,  as  pure  and  aspiring  as  yours,  has  gone  forth 
from  a  loving  home  to  pluck  the  tempting  fruit  of 
honor  and  renown,  and  found  it  like  the  apples  of 
Sodom,  bitter  to  the  taste,  and  as  dry  as  ashes. 

Your  life,  beautiful  as  it  is,  and  shielded  by  all  that 
loving  care  can  suggest,  is  yet  open  to  temptation  and 
dangers. 

Cling  close  to  the  home,  and  your  parents'  sheltering 
love,  and  give  your  lives  into  the  keeping  of  Him  who 
alone  can  make  them  rich,  beautiful  and  blessed. 

"  There  blend  the  ties  that  strengthen 

Our  hearts  in  hours  of  grief, 
The  silver  links  that  lengthen 

Joy's  visits  when  most  brief! 
Then,  dost  thou  sigh  for  pleasure? 

O!  do  not  widely  roam! 
But  seek  that  hidden  treasure 

At  home,  dear  home." 


LCEAVING  I7OMB. 


HEN  the  period  of  life  comes  that  you 
must  turn  from  the  dear  and  familiar 
scenes  of  childhood,  and  seek  new  friends 
and  surroundings,  though  you  may  have 
longed  for  it,  and  fondly  dreamed  of  its  pleasures  and 
advantages,  yet,  when  the  moment  comes,  what  bitter 
tears  are  shed,  and  how  the  heart  aches. 

Perhaps  you  are  going  away  to  school  or  college. 
For  years  you  have  longed  for  the  day  to  arrive  which 
should  bear  you  away,  in  order  that  your  ambition  to 
obtain  a  good  education  might  be  gratified.  Or,  per- 
haps, you  are  going  away  to  make  your  fortune  in  a 
business  career,  as  thousands  have  done  before  you ;  it 
may  be  to  a  large  city,  or  to  a  remote  part  of  the 
country,  where  you  will  be  thrown  amongst  new  in- 
fluences  and  associates.  Hitherto  you  have  been  un* 
der  parental  restraint,  and  your  love  for  them  and  your 
own  personal  pride,  have  withheld  you  from  doing  any 
thing  of  which  they  would  not  approve ;  but  hereafter 
you  will  be  removed  from  this  restraint,  and  left  to  act 
solely  on  your  own  judgment  and  impulses.  If  you 
have  been  accustomed  to  do  right  from  principle,  simply 
because  it  was  right,  then  you  will  be  likely  to  con- 
tinue from  the  same  motive;  but  if  you  have  done  so 

1 68 


LEAVING  HOME. 


169 


merely  to  keep  the  respect  of  your  friends,  call  a  halt, 
for  you  are  in  clanger  of  a  downward  course. 

It  may  be  that  among  new  scenes  and  friends  you 
may  sometimes  rind  yourself  almost  forgetting  the  old 
home,  and  the  loved  ones  there  who  are  still-  following 
you  with  their  thoughts  and  prayers.  Do  not  grieve 
their  true  hearts  by  neglect  or  ingratitude,  which  will 
embitter  your  after  life  with  remorse.  Cherish  in  your 
heart  all  the  pure  and  holy  associations  of  your  earl}* 
years.  They  will  be  as  a  shield  to  protect  you  from 
the  temptations  which  are  ever  ready  to  destroy  the 
unwary  and  thoughtless. 

Never  may  it  be  your  experience  to  echo  the  pathetic 
song  of  Hood,  as  he  recalled  his  early,  happy  home . 
'*  I  remember,  I  remember, 

The  house  where  I  was  born, 
The  little  window  where  the  sun 

Came  peeping  in  at  morn: 
He  never  came  a  wink  too  soon, 

Nor  brought  too  long  a  day, 
But  now  I  often  wish  the  night 
Had  borne  my  breath  awav!" 
Said  a  most  successful  business  man,  who  was  sur- 
rounded with  all  the  appointments  that  wealth  could 
command:   "  These  fortunate  days  of  my  life  are  all 
the  results  of  incidents  in  my  youth  that  I  deemed  un- 
important at  the  time.    My  mother,  in  her  letters, 
urged  me  to  go  to  prayer  meeting,  and  I  used  to  pay 
close  attention  to  that  and  the  meetings,  in  order  to 
write  her  what  was  said;  and  these  habits  gave  me 
the  confidence  of  my  employers,  and  I  was  rapidly  ad- 
vanced over  others  in  position  of  trust  and  responsibility." 


170 


LEAVING  HOME. 


Amos  Lawrence,  the  eminent  Boston  millionaire  and 
philanthropist,  said  of  his  habit  of  writing  home  regu- 
larly: "  My  interest  in  home,  and  my  desire  to  have 
something  to  tell  to  my  sisters  to  instruct  and  improve 
them,  as  well  as  to  have  their  comment  on  what  1 
communicated,  was  a  powerful  motive  for  me  to  spend 
a  portion  of  my  time  each  evening  in  my  boarding 
house,  the  first  year  I  came  to  Boston,  in  reading  and 
study. n  So,  then,  write  frequently  and  regularly  to 
the  old  home,  keep  up  your  interest  in  all  that  pertains 
to  it,  as  well  for  your  own  sake  as  for  those  who  wel- 
come your  letters,  as  more  precious  than  gold.  How- 
ever busy  you  may  be,  you  can  spare  time  enough  to 
scratch  off,  with  pencil,  if  need  be,  a  long  letter  at 
least  once  a  week,  in  which  you  can  interest  them  in 
all  the  little  details  concerning  yourself,  your  work, 
associates  and  surroundings.  It  will  give  you,  besides, 
a  facility  in  the  ready  use  of  words,  which  of  itself  is  a 
valuable  discipline. 

Another  invaluable  rule  to  form  on  leaving  home  is 
to  keep  holy  the  Sabbath.  Thousands  of  young  men 
leave  home  who  have  had  excellent  moral  and  religious 
training,  who  have  been  accustomed  to  observe  the 
Sabbath  strictly,  and  who  intend  to  live  exemplary 
lives,  but,  in  their  new  homes,  they  are  invited  to  take 
a  ride,  or  a  walk,  to  make  calls,  or  go  on  some  little 
excursion,  and  having  no  acquaintances  in  any  church, 
and  finding  the  day  rather  tedious,  they  consent,  and 
little  by  little  they  get  in  the  habit  of  thus  spending 


LEAVING  HOME. 


171 


the  day,  until  all  relish  for  the  observance  of  religious 
exercises  becomes  distasteful. 

Aside  from  any  religious  considerations,  and  looking 
at  it  from  a  mere  worldly  point  of  view,  no  young  man 
who  has  any  regard  for  his  future  can  afford  to  make 
the  fatal  and  irreparable  mistake  of  desecrating  the 
Sabbath  day,  either  by  openly  violating  its  sanctity,  or 
by  neglecting  to  attend  its  sacred  ordinances. 

Many  years  ago,  an  awkward  young  man  went  to 
New  York  city  to  engage  in  business  as  a  shoemaker. 
He  was  in  the  habit  of  regularly  attending  church.  So 
on  the  Sabbath  day  he  sought  the  house  of  God,  and 
in  looking  for  a  seat,  happened  to  be  noticed  as  a 
stranger  by  a  Mr  Robert  Lennox,  then  a  man  very  promi- 
nent and  much  esteemed,  and  was  invited  by  him  into 
his  pew.  The  next  morning  he  started  out  to  buy  a 
stock  of  goods  for  his  new  establishment,  and  being 
obliged  to  buy  on  credit,  took  his  references,  with  which 
he  had  provided  himself,  with  him.  Said  the  leather 
merchant  to  whom  he  applied:  "  Did  ;  not  see  you 
yesterday  at  church  in  the  pew  of  Robert  Lennox?77 
lk  I  do  not  know,  sir,77  said  the  young  man,  lk  I  was  at 
church  yesterday,  and  a  kind  gentleman  invited  me  to 
sit  in  his  pew.77  Said  the  proprietor:  "  I711  trust  any 
one  that  Robert  Lennox  invites  into  his  pew.  You 
need  not  trouble  yourself  about  yrour  references.  When 
the  goods  are  gone,  come  and  get  some  more.77  The 
young  man,  as  might  be  expected,  became  a  success- 
ful and  eminent  merchant,  and  always  considered  that 


1/2 


LEAVING  HOME. 


he  owed  his  success  to  attending  church  the  first  Sun- 
day he  went  to  New  York. 

Mrs.  Harriet  Beecher  Stowe  has  said:  "  The  man 
or  woman  cannot  utterly  sink,  who,  on  every  seventh 
day  is  obliged  to  appear  in  decent  apparel,  and  to  join 
with  all  the  standing  and  respectability  of  the  com- 
munity in  a  united  act  of  worship. " 

So  make  it  a  fixed  resolution,  that  as  soon  as  you  get 
to  your  new  home,  or  even  a  temporary  stopping  place, 
you  will  attend  church,  and  if  circumstances  make 
it  practicable,  not  only  attend,  but  make  yourseli  use- 
ful in  some  way.  Take  a  Sabbath-school  class,  or  if 
you  cannot  do  that,  assist  in  the  library,  or  act  in  any 
other  capacity  where  you  can  be  of  use.  If  you 
are  not  needed  in  any  of  these,  join  a  Bible  class,  and 
identity  yourself  with  the  school.  This  will  bring  you 
into  contact  with  refining  and  elevating  influences, 
with  people  whose  friendship  will  be  of  the  greatest 
value  to  you,  and,  better  than  all  else,  will  lead  you  on  in 
that  life  whose  "  ways  are  pleasantness  and  whose  paths 
are  peace."  Avoid  all  company  ^  habits  and  associa- 
tions that  you  would  wish  to  conceal  from  your  par- 
ents, or  that  you  cannot  write  about  freely  in  your 
home  letters;  and  you  will  escape  the  shoals  upon 
which  hundreds  of  thousands  of  lovely  and  promising 
youths  have  made  shipwreck  of  their  bodies  and  souls. 
To  do  this,  you  must  exercise  a  firm  resolution,  and 
you  will  need  every  day,  and  continually,  divine  guid- 
ance and  help. 


Female  Society. 


NE  of  the  most  marked  men  of  this  cen- 
tury, Disraeli,  who  achieved  distinction  in 
many  different  lines  of  thought  and  action, 
toward  the  close  of  a  career  of  extraordinary  success, 
made  the  remarkable  statement  that  "  a  female  friend, 
amiable,  clever  and  devoted,  is  a  possession  more  valu- 
able than  parks  and  palaces,  and  without  such  a  nurse, 
few  men  can  succeed  in  life, — none  be  content.*'1  The 
reason  why  multitudes  of  gifted  and  brilliant  men  fail 
in  their  career,  is  for  want  of  the  very  traits  of  charac- 
ter which  female  society  would  impart.  How  many 
men  are  intellectual,  well  informed,  and  possess  a  com- 
plete practical  knowledge  of  the  pursuit  they  enter 
upon,  but  they  are  brusque,  imperious,  and  over-bear- 
ing; they  lack  the  urbanity  of  demeanor,  the  consider- 
ation of  other1s  feelings,  the  gracefulness  of  expression, 
which  are  necessary  to  conciliate  men  and  to  draw 
them  to  themselves ;  and  for  the  need  of  these  qualities 
their  progress  is  impeded,  or  they  fail  m  their  plans 
altogether-  The  female  character  possesses  those 
qualities  in  which  most  men  are  deficient, — the  delicate 
instincts,  the  acute  perceptions,  the  ready  judgment, 
the  wonderful  intuitions, — these  all  belong  to  her  by 
native  right,  and  are  usually  acquired  by  men  through 

!73 


174 


FEMALE  SOCIETY. 


her  influence.  The  same  brilliant  author  already 
quoted,  in  his  "  Lothair,"  makes  one  of  his  characters 
to  say  to  a  promising  young  man:  "  You  have  been 
fortunate  in  your  youth  to  become  acquainted  with  a 
great  woman.  It  develops  all  a  man's  powers  and 
gives  him  a  thousand  talents."  That  young  man  is  in 
a  perilous  position  who  sneers  at  the  society  of  pure 
and  sensible  women,  and  who  turns  aside  from  them  to 
mingle  with  the  coarse  and  depraved  of  his  own  sex. 
Thackeray,  who  was  a  keen  observer  of  the  world 
about  him,  and  whose  profound  knowledge  of  human 
nature  was  truly  remarkable,  said:  "All  men  who 
avoid  female  society  have  dull  perceptions,  and  are 
stupid,  and  have  gross  tastes  and  revolt  against  what 
is  pure.  All  amusements  of  youth  to  which  virtuous 
women  are  not  admitted,  rely  upon  it,  are  deleterious 
in  their  nature." 

That  young  man  who  can  inspire  the  respect  of 
a  good  and  sensible  woman,  who  by  his  powers 
of  conversation  can  make  the  time  pass  agreeably 
to  her,  and  who  can  convince  her  that  he  is  pru- 
dent, well  informed  and  honorable,  is  a  man  that 
can  make  men  respect  him  also,  and  will  be  likely  to 
make  his  way  in  the  world  in  such  a  manner  as  to  find 
and  fill  its  best  places. 

One  of  the  old  English  poets  relates  in  charming 
verse  a  pretty  story  of  a  nobleman  who  had  a  son  who, 
in  his  younger  years,  was  so  uncouth,  so  dull  and 
averse  to  learning  and  society,  that  he  despaired  of 


FEMALE  SOCIETY. 


175 


ever  making  him  worthy  of  his  name,  and  sent  him  out 
of  his  sight  to  be  brought  up  with  the  swineherd. 
But  the  awkward,  boorish  youth  happened  one  day 
to  see  a  beautiful  and  noble  maiden,  and  was  at  once 
smitten  with  admiration  at  her  charms  of  person  and 
manner.  From  that  time  he  was  another  being;  he 
was  filled  with  a  strong  and  unquenchable  desire  to 
make  himself  worthy  of  her  notice,  and  to  his  father's 
surprise  and  delight  he  appeared  before  him  and  in- 
formed him  that  he  was  now  ready  to  take  up  the 
tasks  and  books  he  had  before  despised.  He  was 
inspired  by  a  new  purpose,  and  changed  as  if  by 
miracle,  and  in  course  of  time,  under  the  stimulus  of 
his  awakened  aspiration,  he  became  graceful  in  his  de- 
meanor, gallant  in  his  conduct,  learned  and  pleasing 
in  his  discourse,  one  of  the  most  noble  and  accom- 
plished of  young  men, — the  favorite  of  his  father  and 
of  the  household,  and  at  last  won  the  fair  lady  who 
had  been  the  cause  of  this  wondrous  change. 

This  is  romantic,  but  it  is  the  romance  of  real  life, 
and  thousands  of  young  men  have  been  awakened  in  a 
similar  manner  to  noble  aims  and  lofty  aspirations. 
In  this  world  we  need  all  the  aids  we  can  command  to 
lift  us  from  the  low  plane  on  which  we  stand  to  more 
exalted  heights  of  purpose  and  achievement ;  and  rely 
upon  it,  young  man,  that  if  you  possess  one  spark  of  a 
manly  and  chivalrous  spirit,  the  society  of  pure  and 
exalted  women  will  fan  it  to  a  flame  of  more  earnest 
endeavor. 


Roman's  Sphere  and  CQission. 


URING  the  last  fifty  years  a  radical  change 
has  been  effected  in  public  sentiment,  in 
regard  to  women's  work  in  the  world.  It  is 
only  within  a  comparatively  recent  time  that 
colleges  and  the  learned  professions  have  been  opened 
to  her,  and  a  thousand  occupations  promise  her  fair 
remuneration,  and  an  honorable  place  in  the  great  cat- 
alogue of  industrial  pursuits.  This  sphere  of  woman's 
activity  is  continually  widening,  and  new  fields  of  labor 
are  constantly  inviting  her  to  enroll  herself  in  the  great 
army  of  wage  winners.  In  the  olden  time  she  was 
consigned  to  one  of  two  places  —  either  that  of  drudge 
or  lady  —  either  to  do  the  most  menial  and  dependent 
service,  for  a  totally  inadequate  compensation,  or  to 
occupy  an  idealized  place,  where  a  few  superficial 
accomplishments  only,  were  allowable,  and  any  exhibi- 
tion of  a  cultivated  intellect  would  be  stigmatized  as 
audacious  and  manlike.    It  is  not  strange  that  with 

■  CD 

such  a  transition,  there  has  come  a  tendency  to  the 

other  extreme  —  to  ignore  sex,  and  womanly  instincts, 

and  to  regard  men  and  women  alike  as  on  the  same 

plane.    But  nature  is  more  powerful  than  reformers, 

and  while  it  is  wise  that  ever}7  daughter  should  have 

176 


woman's  sphere  and  mission. 


177 


the  ability  to  earn  an  honorable  and  independent  liveli- 
hood in  case  of  any  emergency,  yet  it  is  the  fiat  of 
Providence,  nevertheless,  that  it  is  the  destiny  of  most 
women  to  become  wives  and  mothers,  and  their 
training  should  recognize  this  great  fact.  But  we 
must  not  forget  that  woman,  when  a  wife  and  mother, 
is  not  belittled,  but  ennobled,  and  her  influence  vastly 
enlarged.  What  her  influence  may  be  in  national 
affairs,  is  thus  stated  by  that  keen  and  sagacious  states- 
man, De  Tocqueville:  "  1  do  not  hesitate  to  say  that 
the  women  give  to  every  nation  a  moral  temperament, 
which  shows  itself  in  its  politics.  A  hundred  times  I 
have  seen  weak  men  show  real  public  virtue,  because 
they  had  by  their  sides  women  who  supported  them, 
not  by  advice  as  to  particulars,  but  by  fortifying  their 
feelings  of  duty,  and  by  directing  their  ambition. 
More  frequently,  1  must  confess,  I  have  observed  the 
domestic  influence  gradually  transforming  a  man, 
naturally  generous,  noble  and  unselfish,  into  a  cow- 
ardly, common-place,  place-hunting,  self-seeker,  think- 
ing of  public  business  only  as  a  means  of  making 
himself  comfortable  —  and  this  simply  by  contact  with 
a  well-conducted  woman,  a  faithful  wife,  an  excel- 
lent mother,  but  from  whose  mind  the  grand  notion 
of  public  duty  was  entirely  absent." 

Many  of  the  greatest  statesmen  have  had  wives  who 
co-operated  with  them  in  their  labors,  and  helped  to 
conduct  diplomacies  and  mould  the  destiny  of  nations. 
The  book  which,  more  than  any  other  of  modern  times, 


l78 


woman's  sphere  and  mission. 


aroused  public  sentiment  as  to  the  nature  of  a  great  na- 
tional evil,  was  written  by  a  woman ;  much  of  it  in  her 
kitchen  with  her  child  in  her  lap,  in  snatches  between 
household  duties.  And  yet  Webster  and  Clay,  with  all 
the  flights  of  their  impassioned  eloquence,  amid  listening 
senates,  and  applauding  multitudes,  never  shaped 
public  opinion,  moved  men's  souls,  or  had  as  potent  an 
influence  in  shaping  our  future  as  a  nation,  as  the  story 
of  "  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin."  And  its  mission  did  not 
end  there;  for,  translated  into  nearly  all  languages,  it 
has  worked  like  leaven  over  nearly  the  whole  world, 
to  arouse  in  all  nations  a  love  for  justice  and  universal 
freedom.  Harriet  Beecher  Stowe  as  an  orator  or  leg- 
islator might  have  been  a  total  failure,  but  the  whole 
world  inclined  its  ear  to  listen  to  the  voice  of  her 
womanly  sympathy  and  pleadings  for  justice,  as  she 
spoke  out  of  her  own  heart,  and  from  her  own  hearth- 
stone. Those  women  who  affect  to  despise  their 
womanly  instincts,  and  long  for  a  public  career,  gen- 
erally reap  a  bitter  harvest  of  disappointed  hopes. 

Nearly  a  generation  ago  there  was  in  an  eastern 
academy  a  bright  young  girl,  full  of  theories  as  to  how 
to  uplift  humanity,  and  longing  to  go  out  in  the  world 
as  a  reformer  to  revolutionize  society.  She  was  the 
daughter  of  a  wealthy  man,  and  scorning  marriage  as 
a  condition  too  contracted  for  her  powers,  she  went  out 
to  fulfill  her  life  mission.  About  thirty  years  after,  her 
former  teacher  called  on  her  and  found  her  a  sharp, 
petulant  and  disappointed  woman.    She  thus  made  her 


woman's  sphere  AND  M1SSI  A. 


179 


complaint:  "There  is  no  high  career  open  to  our  sex. 
I  tried  lecturing,  but  did  not  catch  the  public  ear.  I 
have  written  two  or  three  books  ;  they  did  not  sell,  and 
my  publishers  cheated  me.  I  studied  law,  and  for 
years  tried  in  vain  to  light  my  way  into  the  courts.  I 
am  making  no  effort  now.  I  was  born  a  century  too 
soon.  The  world  is  not  yet  ripe  for  women  of  my 
kind."  Thus  embittered  against  the  world,  her  life 
was  going  out  in  failure  and  regret,  and  it  was  because 
she  was  not  willing  to  lay  hold  of  the  work  within  her 
reach.  This  young  lady  had  a  classmate,  the  daughter 
of  a  poor  farmer.  She  also  went  out  into  the  world, 
without  any  exalted  theories  of  benefiting  the  race,  but 
found  no  difficulty  in  rinding  something  that  she  could 
do.  With  her  warm  sympathy  and  sturdy  good  sense, 
she  ministered  to  the  needs  of  those  about  her.  She 
took  a  course  of  study  at  a  training  school  for  nurses, 
watched  by  sick  beds,  and  became  a  very  angel  of 
mercy.  Afterwards  she  took  charge  of  an  orphan 
asylum,  and  then,  hastening  to  the  relief  of  stricken 
sufferers  at  the  height  of  a  terrible  epidemic,  she  gave 
up  her  life  for  others,  and  thus  became  a  noble  martyr 
to  duty  and  to  humanity.  Here  are  two  examples, 
the  one  of  theory,  the  other  of  action. —  the  one  thirst- 
ing for  distinction,  the  other  actuated  by  a  simple 
desire  to  do  good. 

There  is  no  greater  fallacy  than  to  suppose  that 
a  woman  can  not  be  well  read,  possess  a  broad  cul- 
ture and  a  well  disciplined  mind,  and  at  the  same 


i8o 


woman's  sphere  and  mission. 


time  be  a  capable  housewife.  Mary  Somerville,  who 
in  her  day  was  the  foremost  woman  of  the  world 
in  scientific  attainments,  was  also  an  excellent  house- 
keeper, and  one  of  her  friends  thus  speaks  of  her  home 
life:  u  Her  friends  loved  to  take  tea  at  her  house. 
Everything  was  in  order;  the  walls  were  hung  with  her 
fine  drawings;  her  music  stood  in  the  corner,  her  table 
was  spread  with  good  things,  and  she  herself  as  ready 
to  play  the  affable  hostess,  as  though  she  had  never 
worked  out  an  astronomical  problem."  Hawthorne 
has  said:  "It  should  be  woman's  office  to  move 
in  the  midst  of  practical  affairs,  and  to  gild  them 
all,  the  very  homeliest, — were  it  even  the  scouring 
of  pots  and  kettles, — with  an  atmosphere  of  love- 
liness and  joy.'"  One  of  the  greatest  needs  of 
women  is  more  education,  not  merely  of  the  schools, 
but  a  general  knowledge  which  will  enable  them 
to  obtain  a  broader  view  of  the  world  and  its  ac- 
tivities. Thousands  of  women  have  so  much  leis- 
ure that  they  become  lonely,  discontented  and  com- 
plaining. Why  should  they  not  go  through  the 
enchanting  field  of  literature,  and  pluck  the  fairest 
flowers  of  thought  and  sentiment,  or  look  back  through 
the  vistas  of  the  past  and  familiarize  themselves  with 
its  chief  actors  and  events?  Why  should  they  not 
keep  informed  as  to  what  is  going  on  in  the  world,  in 
science,  philosophy,  politics,  inventions  and  general 
progress;  and  especially  in  the  vital  issues  and  perplex 
ing  problems  which  our  own  country  is  called  upon  to 


woman's  sphere  and  mission.  181 

face  and  .  to  solve?  Surely  such  training  and  culture 
would  make  woman  better  fitted  to  be  the  companion 
of  her  husband,  and  the  instructor  of  her  children,  and 
a  whole  horde  of  petty  and  frivolous  and  often  imagin- 
ary cares  and  annoyances  would  be  dispelled. 

Says  that  spicy  and  brilliant  writer,  Gail  Hamilton: 
"  Natural  tact  will  do  much,  but  it  cannot  supply  the 
place  of  education.  When  a  woman  has  learned  to 
make  a  pudding  she  has  learned  but  the  smallest  part 
of  her  duty.  She  needs  to  know  how  to  sit  at  the  ta- 
ble and  dispense  a  hospitality  so  cordial  and  enlivening 
that  the  pudding  shall  be  forgotten.  There  are  a 
thousand  women  who  can  make  a  pudding,  where 
there  is  one  who  is  mistress  of  her  servants,  of  her 
children,  of  her  husband,  of  her  home,  of  her  position." 

A  woman  who  is  all  such  a  description  implies,  is 
one  who  must  fit  herself  for  it  by  cherishing  great 
thoughts,  and  a  noble  appreciation  of  her  responsibility. 
She  must  be  mistress  of  a  store  of  ideas  and  an  ex- 
haustless  fund  of  general  knowledge. 

The  sphere  of  the  woman  is  to  preside  over  the 
home  as  its  light  and  inspiration.  No  charms  so  cap- 
tivating, no  grace  so  irresistible,  no  spirits  so  exuber- 
ant, no  wit  so  cheery,  no  conversation  so  fascinating, 
no  culture  so  varied,  but  can  find  in  the  home  fit  place 
for  their  varied  charms. 

A  gifted  writer  has  thus  beautifully  described  the 
gentle,  modest,  unassuming  and  self-sacrificing  mother, 
who,  thank  God,  can  be  recognized  in  multitudes  of 


1 82         woman's  sphere  and  mission. 

happy  homes  as  she  moves  about  quietly  in  the  duties 
of  her  home  life, — and  where  can  be  found  a  more  de- 
serving tribute  to  the  worth  and  mission  of  woman: 
"  She  never  dreamed  that  she  was  great ;  or  that  she 
was  specially  useful;  or  that  she  had  achieved  any- 
thing worth  living  for.  Sometimes,  when  she  read 
the  stories  of  historic  heroines,  she,  too,  had  her 
1  dreams  of  fair  women,'  and  looked  with  a  sigh  upon 
her  life,  made  up  of  little  deeds,  so  little  that  even  she 
who  did  them  was  not  conscious  of  the  doing.  Her 
monument  was  her  home.  It  grew  up  quietly,  as 
quietly  as  a  flower  grows,  and  no  one  knew — she  did 
not  know  herself — how  much  she  had  done  to  tend 
and  water  and  train  it.  Her  husband  had  absolute 
trust  in  her.  He  earned  the  money;  she  expended  it. 
And  as  she  put  as  much  thought  in  her  expenditure  as 
he  put  in  his  earning,  each  dollar  was  doubled  in  the 
expending.  She  had  inherited  that  mysterious  faculty 
which  we  call  taste ;  and  she  cultivated  it  with  fidelity. 
Neither  man  nor  woman  of  the  world  could  long  re- 
sist the  subtle  influence  of  that  home;  the  warmth  of 
its  truth  and  love  thawed  out  the  frozen  proprieties 
from  impersonated  etiquette;  and  whatever  circle  of 
friends  sat  on  the  broad  piazza  in  summer,  or  gathered 
around  the  open  fire  in  winter,  they  knew  for  a  time 
the  rare  joy  of  liberty — the  liberty  of  perfect  truth  and 
perfect  love.  Her  home  was  hospitable  because  her 
heart  was  large;  and  any  one  was  her  friend  to  whom 
she  could  minister.    But  her  heart  was  like  the  old 


woman's  sphere  and  mission. 


183 


Jewish  temple — strangers  only  came  into  the  court  of 
the  Gentiles;  friends  into  an  inner  court;  her  husband 
and  her  children  found  a  court  yet  nearer  her  heart  of 
hearts;  yet  even  they  knew  that  there  was  a  Holy  of 
Holies  which  she  kept  for  her  God,  and  they  loved  and 
revered  her  the  more  for  it.  So  strangely  was  com- 
mingled  in  her  the  inclusiveness  and  the  exclusiveness 
of  love,  its  hospitality  and  its  reserve.'5 

Thus  far  we  have  spoken  only  of  wives  and  mothers 
as  home-makers;  but  far  be  it  from  us  to  lose  sight  of 
that  noble  company  of  unwedded  home-builders  who. 
as  daughters,  and  sisters  have  been  the  omardian 
angels  of  the  homes  they  have  created,  or  maintained  for 
those  who  otherwise  must  have  been  in  their  helpless- 
ness forced  to  depend  upon  strangers,  or  seek  an 
uncertain  foothold  in  homes  not  their  own. 

Who  would  withhold  the  homage  due  to  such 
women  as  Caroline  Herschel,  Mary  Lamb.  Miss  Mit- 
ford,  Louisa  Alcott.  the  Cary  sisters,  and  the 
thousands  of  other  gifted  and  noble  women,  who. 
though  neither  wives  nor  mothers,  have  made  the 
world  richer  and  better  for  the  homes  they  have  cre- 
ated and  adorned?  and,  beautiful  for  all  time  will  be 
the  picture  of  that  home  of  the  sisters  in  Bethany 
toward  which  He  —  the  greatest  and  best  who  ever 
trod  this  earth  —  loved  to  turn  his  weary  feet,  and 
which  he  so  often  blessed  with  his  presence. 


"  Either  sex  tflone 
Is  half  itself,  and  in  true  marriage  lies 
Nor  equal,  nor  unequal:  each  fulfills 
Defect  in  each,  and  always  thought  in  thought, 
Purpose  in  purpose,  will  in  will,  they  grow." 

<r 

IR  WALTER  SCOTT  once  gave  this  ad- 
^  vice  to  a  young  friend:  "  Settle  yourself  in 
-^!^  life  while  you  are  young,  and  lay  up  by  so 
doing,  a  stock  of  domestic  happiness  against  age  or 
bodily  decay.  There  are  many  good  things  in  life, 
whatever  satirists  or  misanthropes  may  say  to  the  con- 
trary; but  probably  the  best  of  all,  next  to  a  conscience 
void  of  offense,  is  the  quiet  exercise  and  enjoyment 
of  social  feelings,  in  which  we  are  happy  ourselves,  and 
the  cause  of  happiness  to  those  dearest  to  us." 

"  What  greater  thing  is  there  for  two  human  souls," 
wrote  George  Eliot,  "  than  to  feel  that  they  are  joined 
for  life — to  strengthen  each  other  in  all  labor,  to  rest 
on  each  other  in  all  sorrow,  to  minister  to  each  other 
in  all  pain,  to  be  one  with  each  other  in  silent,  unspeak- 
able memories  at  the  last  parting." 

"  Marriage,"  says  a  recent  writer,  "  is  to  a  woman 
at  once  the  happiest  and  saddest  event  of  her  life;  it  is 
the  promise  of  future  bliss  raised  on  the  death  of  the 

present  enjoyment.    She  quits  her  home,  her  parents, 

184 


MARRIAGE. 


her  companions,  her  amusements  —  everything  on 
which  she  has  hitherto  depended  for  comfort,  for  affec- 
tion, for  kindness  and  for  pleasure.  Buoyed  up  by  the 
confidence  of  requited  love,  she  bids  a  fond  and  grate- 
ful adieu  to  the  life  that-  is  past,  and  turns  with  excited 
hopes  and  joyous  anticipation  to  the  happiness  to  come. 
Then  zuoe  to  the  man  who  blights  such  fair  hopes!  who 
can  treacherously  lure  such  a  heart  from  its  peaceful 
enjoyment  and  the  watchful  protection  of  home — who 
can,  coward-like,  break  the  illusions  which  have  won 
her,  and  destroy  the  confidence  which  love  had  inspired.' ' 
Mrs.  Browning  has  given  voice  to  the  same  feelings 
in  these  words: 

"  If  I  leave  all  for  thee,  wilt  thou  exchange 
And  be  all  to  me?    Shall  I  never  miss 
Home-talk  and  blessing,  and  the  common  kiss 
That  comes  to  each  in  turn,  nor  count  it  strange 
When  I  look  up,  to  drop  on  a  new  range 
Of  walls  and  floors — another  home  than  this?" 

Theodore  Parker  says  of  marriage:  u  Men  and  wo- 
men, and  especially  young  people,  do  not  know  that  it 
takes  years  to  marry  completely  two  hearts,  even  of 
the  most  loving  and  well  sorted.  But  nature  allows 
no  sudden  change — marriage  is  gradual,  a  fraction  of 
us  at  a  time.  A  happy  wedlock  is  a  long  falling  in 
love.  But  the  golden  marriage  is  a  part  of  love 
which  the  bridal-day  knows  nothing  of.  Youth  is  the 
tassel  and  silken  flower  of  love;  age  is  the  full  corn, 
ripe  and  solid  in  the  ear.  Beautiful  is  the  morning  of 
love  with  its  prophetic  crimson,  violet,  purple  and 
gold,  with  its  hopes  of  day  to  come.    Beautiful  also  is 


MARRIAGE. 


the  evening  of  love,  with  its  glad  remembrances  and  its 
rainbow  side  turned  toward  heaven  as  well  as  earth.17 

There  is  much  food  for  thought  in  these  suggestive 
remarks  on  the  duties  of  the  married  relation: 

"  Happiness  and  selfishness  can  never  flourish  on  the 
same  stem;  one  kills  the  other.  To  be  wedded  hap- 
pily, the  promoter  is  congeniality  and  unselfishness. 
A  good  woman  will  endure  much  for  her  husband,  the 
man  for  his  wife.  A  true  woman  will  smile,  cheer, 
and  help  her  husband  should  clouds  come.  Then  is  the 
time  to  test  her  character,  to  solve  the  problem, — the 
object  of  her  matrimony.  Men,  look  for  women  with  a 
heart,  a  soul;  do  not  let  their  facial  beauty  be  their  sole 
attraction,  rather  let  it  be  their  beauty  of  soul  and 
character  that  inspires  your  love  for  them.  For  with 
these  there  is  no  autumn,  no  fading;  their  leaves  will 
be  fresh  and  beautiful  forever." 

Dr.  Goodell  thus  expresses  the  relation,  and  mutual 
dependence  of  husbands  and  wives  to  each  other: 
"  Some  complain  that  their  home  joys  are  meager. 
Let  them  remember  how  mean  and  beggarly  are  their 
contributions.  They  cannot  reap  where  they  do  not 
sow.  To  make  the  home  the  happiest  and  most  help- 
ful place  in  the  world,  each  must  give  the  best  to  it. 
Not  to  society,  not  to  business,  not  to  outside  intimates, 
but  to  the  family  circle,  must  the  choicest  gleanings  be 
brought  from  all  the  fields  of  life,  as  the  bee  brings  to 
his  hive,  and  not  elsewhere^  honey  from  all  the  sweet- 
est flowers.    The  husband  and  wife  are  in  a  true  sense 


MARRIAGE.  1 87 

one.  Whatever  is  good  for  him  is  good  for  her. 
Whatever  is  due  from  him  to  her  is  also  equally  due 
from  her  to  him.  They  move  together.  He  owes  no 
duty  to  her  that  she  does  not  owe  to  him  a  counter 
part.  It  is  an  even  thing.  What  the  wife  requires  of 
her  husband,  that  let  her  give  to  him.  She  is  married 
'for  better  or  for  worse  ;'  let  her  resolve  that  it  shall 
be  for  better.  Matches  are  not  made  in  heaven,  and 
will  be  for  the  worse,  if  there  be  no  watchful,  patient 
care  to  work  them  out  on  earth  for  heaven." 

The  following  maxims,  if  put  m  practice  daily, 
would  do  much  to  promote  harmony  and  good  feeling 
in  the  home: 

"  Never  make  a  remark  at  the  expense  of  the  other; 
it  is  meanness.'" 

u  Never  manifest  anger." 

"  Never  speak  loud  to  one  another,  unless  the  house 
is  on  fire." 

"  Never  reflect  on  a  past  action  which  was  done 
with  a  good  motive,  and  with  the  best  judgment." 

"  Never  part  without  loving  words  to  think  of  dur- 
ing your  absence.  Besides,  it  may  be  that  you  will 
not  meet  again  in  life." 

"  Let  each  one  strive  to  yield  oftenest  to  the  wishes 
of  the  other,  which  is  the  mutual  cultivation  of  an  ab- 
solute unselfishness. ' 

The  biographer  of  Andrew  jackson  draws  this 
charming  picture  of  his  married  life:  "  It  was  a  happy 
marriage — a  very  happy  marriage — one  of  the  very 


i88 


MARRIAGE. 


happiest  ever  contracted.  They  loved  one  another  in 
the  highest  respect.  They  loved  one  another  dearly. 
They  testified  the  love  and  respect  they  entertained 
for  one  another  by  those  polite  attentions  which  lovers 
can  not  but  exchange  before  marriage  and  after  mar- 
riage. Their  love  grew  as  their  years  increased,  and 
became  warmer  as  their  blood  became  colder.  No 
one  ever  heard  either  address  to  the  other  a  disrespect- 
ful, or  irritating,  or  unsympathizing  word.  They  were 
not  as  familiar  as  is  now  the  fashion.  He  remained 
'Mr.  Jackson  '  to  her  always — never  1  General,'  still 
less  'Andrew.'  And  he  never  called  her  'Rachel,' 
but  1  Mrs.  Jackson,'  or  '  wife.'  " 

The  following  words  will  be  appreciated  by  every 
one  who  has  been  so  fortunate  as  to  experience  the 
truth  of  them:  "  There  is  no  combination  of  letters  in 
the  English  language  which  excites  more  pleasing  and 
interesting  associations  in  the  mind  of  man  than  the 
word  1  wife  '.  It  presents  to  the  mind's  eye  a  cheerful 
companion,  a  disinterested  adviser,  a  nurse  in  sickness, 
a  comfort  in  misfortune,  and  an  ever  affectionate  part- 
ner. It  conjures  up  the  image  of  a  lovely,  confiding 
woman,  who  cheerfully  undertakes  to  contribute  to 
your  happiness,  to  partake  with  you  the  cup,  whether 
of  weal  or  woe,  which  destiny  may  offer.  The  word 
-  wife  1  is  synonymous  with  the  greatest  earthly  bless- 
ing; and  we  pity  the  unfortunate  wight  who  is  com- 
pelled, by  fate's  severe  decree,  to  trudge  along  life's 
dull  pilgrimage  without  one." 


MARRIAGE. 


Miss  Muloch  says,  with  much  truth,  that  u  Love 
alone  is  not  sufficient  in  marriage.  But  wanting  love, 
nothing  else  suffices;  no  outward  suitability,  no  tie  of 
Gratitude  or  duty.  All  break  like  threads  before  the 
wrench  of  the  ever-grinding  wheel  of  daily  cares.1 ' 

Too  often  the  husband  allows  his  business  or  pro- 
fession to  shut  him  out  from  the  one  with  whom  he 
promised  to  walk,  not  only  through  the  first  brief 
months  of  wedded  life,  but  all  along  life's  journey,  and 
the  wife,  alas,  learns  to  find  her  daily  solace  and  com- 
fort in  her  children,  or,  if  lacking  these,  in  some  social 
or  benevolent  work. 

What  a  contrast  is  this  picture  to  that  home  in 
which  mutual  love  cheers  every  pathway,  lightens 
every  burden,  and  dispenses  joy  to  all  around. 

Tennyson  has  sung  in  beautiful  and  prophetic  words 
of  the  perfect  union  ot  man  and  woman: 

"  In  the  long  years  liker  must  they  grow ; 
The  man  be  more  of  woman,  she  of  man; 
He  gain  in  sweetness  and  in  moral  height, 
Nor  lose  the  wrestling  thews  that  throw  the  world; 
She  mental  breadth,  nor  fail  in  childward  care, 
Nor  lose  the  childlike  in  the  larger  mind, 
Till  at  last  she  set  herself  to  man, 
Like  perfect  music  unto  noble  words-, 
And  so  these  twain,  upon  the  skirts  of  Time, 
Sit  side  by  side,  full-summ'd  in  all  their  powers, 
Dispensing  harvest,  sowing  the  To-Be, 
Self-reverent  each  and  reverencing  each, 
Distinct  in  individualities, 
But  like  each  other  ev'n  as  those  who  love. 
Then  comes  the  statelier  Eden  back  to  man.'-- 


<<5he  CQothe^'s  Influence. 


44  The  mother,  in  her  office,  holds  the  key 
Of  the  soul;  and  she  it  is  who  stamps  the  coin 
Of  character,  and  makes  the  being  who  would  be  a  savage, 
But  for  her  gentle  cares,  a  Christian  man. 
Then  crown  her  Queen  o'  the  World." 


—  Old  Play. 


APOLEON  never  exhibited  a  more  pro- 
,  found  conception  of  the  real   sources  of 
national  power  than  when  he  expressed  the 


sentiment,  that  upon  the  mothers  of  France  depended 
the  greatness  and  prosperity  of  the  empire.  Woe  to 
the  world  when  the  pure,  strong  instincts  of  tender 
motherhood  are  disregarded,  when  the  sweet  voice 
loses  its  power  to  restrain,  and  the  maternal  kiss  to 
conquer  the  perverse  inclinations  and  willful  passions 
of  our  unruly  natures. 

It  has  been  said  that  "  the  intellectual  calibre  of  the 
mother,  her  manner  of  conversation,  her  habits  of 
reading  and  thought,  all  have  a  mighty  influence  on 
her  children and  it  is  a  profound  and  well-recognized 
truth.  To  mothers  are  intrusted  the  shaping  of  lives 
which,  in  turn,  shape  the  destinies  of  the  world.  Theirs 
is  a  power  more  potent  than  swords  or  bayonets, 
councils  or  senates. 


190 


THE  MOTHER'S  INFLUENCE. 


I9I 


Some  one  has  finely  said:  "  It  is  related  of  Phidias 
that  in  constructing  the  statue  of  Minerva  at  Athens, 
he  so  wrought  his  own  image  into  her  shield,  that  it 
could  not  be  removed  without  destroying  the  statue 
itself.  Thus  ineffaceably  does  the  mother  engrave  her 
mental  likeness,  her  moral  character,  upon  the  soul  of 
the  child.  Xot  until  that  soul  shall  be  annihilated 
will  the  maternal  imapfe  be  removed."' 

It  is  a  beautiful  tribute  to  the  influence  of  mother- 
hood to  observe  how  the  greatest  and  purest  minds 
recur  with  ever  increasing  satisfaction  to  the  maternal 
influence  and  training  in  their  early  life,  and  attribute  all 
their  successes  to  her  gentle  teachings.  The  excitable 
temperament  and  passionate  nature  of  the  brilliant  yet 
unhappy  John  Randolph  was  soothed  by  the  remem- 
brance of  his  mother,  and  he  said:  "I  would  have 
been  an  atheist  if  it  had  not  been  for  one  recollection; 
and  that  was  the  memory  of  the  time  when  my  de- 
parted mother  used  to  take  my  little  hands  in  hers,  and 
cause  me.  on  my  knees,  to  say,  £  Our  Father,  which 
art  in  heaven.'"  His  mother  died  when  only  thirty- 
six  years  of  age.  and  in  the  bloom  of  her  womanhood, 
and  he  always  retained  a  vivid  remembrance  of  her 
person,  her  charms,  and  her  virtues,  and  often  did  he 
shed  tears  over  her  grave  by  whose  side  it  was  the 
last  wish  of  his  heart  to  be  buried.  "  I  am  a  fatalist,1 ' 
said  he:  *T  am  all  but  friendless:  only  one  human 
being  ever  knew  me — my  mother."1 

The  celebrated  Benjamin  West  related  that  his 


IQ2 


THE  MOTHER  S  INFLUENCE. 


mother  once  kissed  him  eagerly,  when  he  showed  her 
a  likeness  he  had  sketched  of  his  baby  sister;  and  he 
adds:    "  That  kiss  made  me  a  painter." 

That  sturdy  and  independent  representative  of 
western  manhood, — Thomas  H.  Benton, — attributed 
his  success  to  the  influence  of  his  mother,  and  in  a 
speech  made  in  New  York  thus  spoke  of  her:  "My 
mother  asked  me  never  to  use  tobacco,  and  I  have 
never  used  it  from  that  time  until  the  present  day. 
She  asked  me  not  to  game,  and  I  have  never  gamed. 
She  admonished  me,  too,  against  strong  drink,  and  what- 
ever capacity  for  endurance  I  may  have  at  present, 
and  whatever  usefulness  I  may  attain  in  life,  I  attribute 
to  having  complied  with  her  highest  and  earnest 
wishes." 

That  silver-voiced  orator,  Henry  Clay,  who  seemed 
to  wake  at  will  the  chords  of  human  sympathy,  and  to 
reach  the  hearts  of  men  by  his  wondrous  personal 
magnetism,  always  spoke  of  his  mother  in  terms  which 
denoted  the  most  devoted  affection  and  profound  ven- 
eration. It  is  said  that  habitual  correspondence 
existed  between  them  to  the  last  hour  of  life.  He  ever 
mentioned  her  as  a  model  of  maternal  character  and 
female  excellence,  and  it  is  said  that  he  never  met  his 
constituents  after  her  death,  without  some  allusion  to 
her,  which  deeply  affected  both  himself  and  his  audi- 
ence. And  when  the  great  statesman  came  to  die, 
nearly  his  last  words  were,  "  Mother,  mother,  mother." 

One  of  the  strongest  characteristics  of  the  poet,  Pope, 


THE  MOTHER'S  INFLUENCE. 


193 


was  his  extraordinary  attachment  to  his  mother,  in  whose 
society  he  found  an  exquisite  delight.  Neither  the 
flatteries  of  the  great,  nor  the  pride  of  his  fame,  could 
ever  stifle  his  filial  love,  and  among  the  most  touching 
strains  which  his  genius  inspired  are  those  addressed 
to  his  mother. 

Benjamin  Franklin  was  in  the  habit  of  referring  to 
his  mother  with  the  most  tender  affection,  and  was 
ever  solicitous  for  her  comfort  and  happiness.  Thomas 
Gray,  the  gifted  author  of  the  immortal  "  Elegy,"  was 
most  affectionate  to  his  mother  during  her  life,  and 
after  her  death  it  is  said  that  he  seldom  mentioned  her 
without  a  sigh.  The  inscription  which  he  placed  over 
her  grave  describes  her  as  "  the  careful,  tender  mother 
of  many  children,  one  of  whom  had  the  misfortune  to 
survive  her."  He  was  buried  by  her  side,  according 
to  his  own  directions.  The  regard  of  Washington  for 
his  mother  is  shown  in  her  powerful  influence  over 
him,  and  in  the  nobility  of  character  which  was  early 
developed  by  her  careful  training  and  wise  counsel. 
When  an  ambitious  youth  longing  to  enter  the  arena 
of  life,  and  battle  for  its  prizes,  he  broke  up  an  engage- 
ment to  go  to  sea,  because  he  saw  that  his  going 
would  occasion  her  great  sorrow  and  solicitude.  And 
in  all  the  triumphs  of  his  life,  it  was  his  pride  first  to 
acquaint  her  with  the  honors  conferred  upon  him,  as  if 
to  delight  her  eyes  with  the  fruit  of  her  planting. 

Amos  Lawrence,  the  great  Boston  merchant,  always 
spoke  of  his  mother  in  the  strongest  terms  of  venera- 


194 


THE  MOTHER'S  INFLUENCE. 


tion  and  love,  and  plainly  showed  that  his  heart  over- 
flowed with  constant  gratitude  to  her.  It  is  said  that 
amongst  the  earliest  and  most  cherished  recollections  of 
his  early  years  and  his  childhood's  home,  was  the  form 
of  his  mother,  bending  over  his  bed  in  silent  prayer, 
when  she  was  about  leaving  him  for  the  night.  Is  it 
any  wonder  that  a  youth  cherishing  such  memories, 
when  thrown  in  the  whirl  of  a  large  city  full  of  snares 
and  pitfalls  for  the  unwary,  should  be  armed  to  resist 
temptations  and  battle  for  the  right,  and  win  the 
choicest  rewards  of  manly  character  and  business  suc- 
cess ? 

The  mother  of  Gen.  Houston  was  a  superior  woman, 
and,  enduring  all  the  privations  of  frontier  life,  strug- 
gled heroically  to  bring  up  her  large  family  in  such  a 
manner  as  should  ensure  their  own  welfare,  and  make 
them  useful  to  society.  Gen.  Francis  Marion,  of  Revo- 
lutionary fame,  was  in  his  younger  days  an  industri- 
ous young  farmer,  and  was  not  distinguished  above 
other  young  men  of  the  neighborhood  in  which  he 
lived,  except  for  his  devoted  love  and  tender  regard 
for  his  mother,  whose  influence  over  him  awakened 
those  qualities  of  manliness  which  made  him  a  success- 
ful leader  of  men  in  those  eventful  times. 

The  celebrated  Lord  Macaulay,  who  earned  honors 
and  fame  such  as  are  the  privilege  of  but  few  men  to 
enjoy,  thus  tenderly  recurs  to  the  influence  of  his 
mother:  "  Often  do  I  sigh,  in  my  struggles  with  the 
hard,  uncaring  world,  for  the  sweet  deep  security  I  felt, 


the  mother's  influence.  195 

when  of  an  evening,  nestling  in  her  bosom.  I  listened 
to  some  quiet  tale  suitable  to  my  age.  read  in  her  ten- 
der and  untiring  voice.  Never  can  I  forget  her  sweet 
glances  cast  upon  me  when  I  appeared  asleep:  never 
her  kiss  of  peace  at  night.  Years  have  passed  away 
since  we  laid  her  beside  my  father  in  the  old  church- 
yard; yet  still  her  voice  whispers  from  the  grave,  and 
her  eve  watches  over  me  as  I  visit  spots  long  since 
hallowed  to  the  memory  of  my  mother."  Thus  do 
the  sweet  and  silent  influences  of  a  mother's  life  reach 
that  inner  sanctuary  of  the  soul  which  is  silent  to  all 
the  intoxicating  strains  of  worldly  glory. 

Once,  in  one  of  our  large  cities,  an  idolized  daughter 
was  missed  from  a  happy  home,  and  for  months  and 
years  the  heartbroken  mother  endeavored  to  find  trace 
of  her.  but  in  vain.  It  was  supposed  that  through 
certain  associations  she  had  fallen  into  an  abandoned 
life,  but  the  mother  did  not  despair.  The  fathomless 
depths  of  her  love  for  her  lost  child  suggested  an  expe- 
dient. She  had  her  own  portrait  painted,  and  obtained 
permission  to  hang  it  up  in  a  mission  house,  where 
miserable  creatures  sometimes  came  for  a  morsel  of 
food*  or  for  words  of  kindness  and  hope  in  their  yearn- 
ings for  a  better  life.  At  length,  one  night  a  poorly  clad 
and  haggard  young  woman  came,  and  after  hungrily 
eating  the  lunch  that  was  provided,  was  turning  to  go 
away  when  she  caught  sight  of  the  portrait.  She 
stood  transfixed  as  if  in  a  dream  :  then  the  great  tears 
began  to  rain  down  upon  her  pallid  face,  and  she  sank 


196 


THE  MOTHERS  INFLUENCE. 


to  the  floor,  sobbing,  My  mother,  my  mother,  my 
mother!"  The  thought  of  that  mighty  mother-love 
melted  her  heart  to  repentance, —  the  mother's  faith 
was  triumphant,  and  the  erring  one  was  restored  to 
her  home,  never  more  to  return  to  her  evil  life.  O, 
the  wondrous  depths  of  maternal  love, —  like  the  infi- 
nite sea,  whose  vast  caverns  no  plummet  e'er  can 
reach;  it  is  the  truest  type  of  that  more  wondrous  ten- 
derness of  the  all-wise  Father  above,  for  the  teeming 
millions  of  this  sorrowing  earth.  How  many  hearts 
that  have  struggled  long  and  faithfully  with  the  trials 
and  temptations  of  life  will  give  glad  assent  to  the 
beautiful  sentiment  which  a  loving  heart  has  embodied 
in  these  words:  "  Blessed  is  the  memory  of  an  old- 
fashioned  mother.  It  floats  to  us  now  like  the  perfume 
of  some  woodland  blossoms.  The  music  of  other 
voices  may  be  lost,  but  the  entrancing  memory  of  hers 
will  echo  In  our  hearts  forever.  Other  faces  will 
be  forgotten,  but  hers  will  shine  on  until  the 
light  from  heaven's  portals  shall  glorify  our  own. 
When  in  the  fitful  pauses  of  busy  life  our  feet  wander 
back  to  the  old  homestead,  and,  crossing  the  well  worn 
threshold,  stand  once  more  in  the  quaint  low  room,  so 
hallowed  by  her  presence,  how  the  feeling  of  childish 
innocence  and  dependence  comes  over  us.  How  many 
times  when  the  tempter  lured  us  on,  has  the  memory 
of  those  sacred  hours,  that  mother's  words,  her  faith 
and  prayers,  saved  us  from  plunging  into  the  deep 
abyss  of  sin." 


THE  MOTHER'S  INFLUENCE. 


I97 


As  one  has  well  said,  "  Who  can  fathom  the  depth 
of  a  mother's  love?  No  friendship  so  pure,  so 
devoted.  The  wild  storm  of  adversity  and  the  bright 
sunshine  of  prosperity  are  all  alike  to  her;  however 
unworthy  we  may  be  of  that  affection,  a  mother  never 
ceases  to  love  her  erring  child.  Often  when  alone,  as  we 
gaze  up  to  the  starry  heaven,  can  we  in  imagination 
catch  a  glimpse  of  the  angels  around  the  '  great  white 
throne ;  '  and  among1  the  brightest  and  fairest  of  them 
all  is  our  sweet  mother,  ever  beckoning  us  onward 
and  upward  to  her  celestial  home." 

The  Edens  of  earth  are  the  happy  homes  in  which  a 
gentle  mother  presides,  and  rules  the  charmed  house- 
hold with  the  precious  influences  of  a  noble  woman- 
hood; nurturing  into  fruition  in  those  about  her,  the 
graces  and  harmonies  of  life  and  character,  as  the  sun 
shine  brings  out  the  beauty,  flavor  and  fragrance  of 
rarest  flowers  and  fruit.  Better  than  all  the  gaud  of 
wealth,  better  than  all  the  fastidious  tastes  and  refine- 
ments of  luxury,  better  than  highest  aesthetic  culture 
or  intellectual  superiority,  is  the  presence  in  the  home 
of  one  of  these  queens  of  the  heart,  whose  realm  is 
bounded  by  the  affections  and  well-being  of  her  house- 
hold. Such  mothers  and  such  homes  will  send  out 
sons  such  as  the  world  needs,  and  men  delight  to  honor, 
and  daughters  whose  loveliest  adornments  are  the  vir- 
tues and  graces  which  they  possess. 

T.  S.  Arthur,  in  speaking  of  his  mother,  has  repeated 
the  experience  of  thousands  of  men  now  in  honorable 


198 


THE  MOTHER'S  INFLUENCE. 


positions,  and  bearing  manfully  the  heavy  burdens  of 
life.  He  says:  "  For  myself,  I  am  sure  that  a  differ- 
ent mother  would  have  made  me  a  different  man. 
When  a  boy  I  was  too  much  like  the  self-willed,  excit- 
able Clarence;  but  the  tenderness  with  which  my 
mother  always  treated  me,  and  the  unimpassioned  but 
earnest  manner  in  which  she  reproved  and  corrected 
my  faults,  subdued  my  unruly  temper.  When  I 
became  restless  and  impatient,  she  always  had  a  book 
to  read  to  me,  or  a  story  to  tell,  or  had  some  device  to 
save  me  from  myself. v 

"  Happy  he 
With  such  a  mother!  faith  in  womankind 
Beats  with  his  blood,  and  trust  in  all  things  high 
Comes  easy  to  him,  and  tho'  he  trip  and  fall 
He  shall  not  blind  his  soul  with  clay." 

There  are  multitudes  of  the  world's  best  workers 
to-day,  whose  wayward  disposition  in  youth  was  sub- 
dued by  the  influence  of  their  mothers,  and  so  they 
were  saved  to  become  helps  instead  of  burdens  to 
society.  One  of  the  most  delightful  female  writers  of 
our  age  has  given  us  this  charming  picture  of  a  mother 
and  the  happy  home-life  which  she  created.  She  says: 
Lt  The  most  perfect  home  I  ever  saw  was  in  a  little 
house,  into  the  sweet  incense  of  whose  fires  went  no 
costly  things.  The  mother  was  the  creator  of  the  home ; 
her  relation  with  her  children  was  the  most  beautiful  I 
have  ever  seen.  Every  inmate  of  her  house  involun- 
tarily looked  into  her  face  for  the  key  note  of  the  day; 


THE  MOTHER'S  INFLUENCE. 


199 


and  it  always  rang  clear.  From  the  rosebud  or  clover- 
leaf  which,  in  spite  of  her  hard  work,  she  always  found 
time  to  put  by  our  plates  at  breakfast,  down  to  the 
story  she  had  on  hand  to  be  read  in  the  evening,  there 
was  no  intermission  of  her  influence.  She  has  always 
been  and  always  will  be  my  ideal  of  a  mother,  wife, 
home-maker.11 

Mothers,  there  is  no  honor  on  earth  so  great  and  so 
full  of  blessed  rewards  as  that  of  sending  out  into  the 
world  a  man  or  woman  fully  equipped  for  a  noble  life 
work.  Co-workers,  are  you  with  God  in  the  uplifting 
and  regeneration  of  the  race.  Do  not  be  discouraged 
if  your  toil  to  you  seems  fruitless,  and  your  words 
unheeded,  for  away  down  in  the  deep  recesses  of  the 
hearts  of  your  children  is  your  image  deeply  graven, 
your  words  and  gentle  teachings  are  there  recorded, 
and  in  future  years,  and  perhaps  in  distant  climes,  your 
lessons,  and  patience,  and  influence,  will  bring  a  rich 
harvest  of  reward. 


Influence  or  (©hildi^en. 


NE  of  the  greatest  contrasts  between  the 
present  age  and  the  boasted  civilization  of 
Greece  and  Rome  in  their  palmiest  days,  is 
the  place  accorded  to  childhood.  None  of 
the  great  classic  writers  of  the  Roman  Republic,  or  of 
the  age  of  Pericles,  in  Greece,  seem  to  have  estimated 
the  relation  of  childhood  to  the  future  of  the  world. 
It  is  true  that  Cornelia,  the  noble  Roman  matron,  said 
of  her  children,  the  Gracchi,  "  These  are  my  jewels," 
but  she '  was  the  exceptionally  fond  mother.  In  Sparta 
only  sturdy  boys  were  esteemed  of  value,  and  they,  be- 
cause they  would  make  soldiers,  while  it  was  allowable 
to  put  female  infants,  and  the  weak  and  maimed,  to 
death.  This  inhuman  people  had  a  cruel  custom  of 
annually  scourging  their  children  at  the  altars  of  their 
deities,  and  sometimes  this  was  done  so  violently  that 
they  died  from  the  barbarous  torture.  But  happily 
for  the  world,  a  better  era  has  dawned  upon  it,  and 
now  the  influence  of  childhood  is  recognized  as  one  of 
the  strongest  agencies  to  uplift  our  race.  The  great- 
est men  have  shown  their  greatness  by  the  freshness 
of  their  hearts,  manifested  by  their  love  of  children. 
When  Michael  Angelo  was  at  the  zenith  of  his  fame, 

and  popes  and  emperors  were  willing  to  pay  fabulous 

200 


INFLUENCE  OF  CHILDREN. 


201 


prices  for  his  work,  a  little  boy  met  him  in  the  street, 
with  an  old  pencil  and  piece  of  dirty  brown  paper,  and 
asked  him  for  a  picture.  He  took  the  materials,  went 
to  the  side  of  the  street,  sat  down  on  a  curbstone,  and 
drew  his  little  admirer  a  picture. 

Wellington,  the  renowned  hero  of  Waterloo,  once 
met  a  little  boy  who  was  crying  bitterly.  He  asked 
what  was  the  matter,  and  the  boy  said:  "  We  are  go- 
ing to  move,  and  I  don't  know  what  will  become  of 
my  tame  toad.11  Wellington  said:  "  Never  mind,  I 
will  take  care  of  your  toad,"  and  he  kept  his  word,  and 
regularly  the  little  boy  received  a  letter  from  the  great 
soldier  stating  that  the  toad  was  well.  An  incident  is 
related  of  John  Wesley,  the  founder  of  Methodism, 
which  perhaps  reveals  one  of  the  sources  of  his  won- 
derful power  to  influence  others  for  good:  "  When  I 
was  a  little  boy  in  Bristol,11  said  Robert  Southev?  "  I 
was  running  down  a  flight  of  steps  with  my  sister — a 
beautiful  girl  with  flowing  ringlets.  John  Wesley  took 
her  up  in  his  arms  and  kissed  her,  and  blessed  her, 
and  then  he  laid  his  hand  on  my  head  and  blessed  me." 
His  eyes  were  full,  and  the  tears  flowed  down  his 
cheeks  as  he  said  this,  and  he  added:  "  I  feel  as  if  I 
had  the  blessing  of  that  man  upon  me  yet." 

Henry  Ward  Beecher,  who  had  a  heart  as  fresh  as 
a  child's,  thus  speaks  of  them:  "  Nothing  on  earth 
grows  so  fast  as  children.  It  was  but  yesterday,  and 
that  lad  was  playing  with  tops,  a  buoyant  boy.  He  is 
a  man,  and  gone  now.    There  is  no  more  childhood 


202 


INFLUENCE  OF  CHILDREN. 


for  him,  or  for  us.  Life  has  claimed  him.  When  a 
beginning  is  made,  it  is  like  ravelling  a  stocking,  stitch 
by  stitch  gives  way  till  it  is  all  gone.  The  house  has 
not  a  child  in  it;  there  is  no  more  noise  in  the  hall, — 
boys  rushing  pell-mell;  it  is  very  orderly  now.  There 
are  no  skates,  sleds,  balls  or  strings  left  scattered  about. 
Things  are  quiet  enough  now.  There  is  no  delay  for 
sleepy  folks ;  there  is  no  longer  any  task  before  you  lie 
down,  of  looking  after  any  body,  or  tucking  up  the 
bedclothes.  There  are  no  disputes  to  settle,  nobody 
to  get  off  to  school,  no  complaints,  no  importunities 
for  impossible  things,  no  rips  to  mend,  no  fingers  to 
tie  up,  no  faces  to  be  washed,  or  collars  to  be  ar- 
ranged. There  was  never  such  a  peace  in  the  house! 
It  would  sound  like  music  to  have  some  feet  clatter 
down  the  front  stairs!  O,  for  some  children's  noise! 
What  used  to  ail  us  that  we  were  hushing  their  loud 
laugh,  checking  their  noisy  frolic  and  reproving  their 
slamming  and  banging  the  doors?  We  wish  our 
neighbors  would  only  lend  us  an  urchin  or  two,  to 
make  a  little  noise  in  these  premises. " 

"  God  bless  the  young!"  exclaims  Talmage,  "they 
will  have  to  live  many  a  day  if  they  want  me  to  throw 
a  cloud  on  their  life  by  telling  them  it  is  hard,  and  dark, 
and  doleful.    It  is  no  such  thing." 

The  nephew  of  Lord  Macaulay,  the  historian,  thus 
speaks  of  his  love  for  children:  "  He  was,  beyond  all 
comparison,  the  best  of  playfellows,  unrivalled  in  the 
invention  of  games,  and  never  wearied  of  repeating 


INFLUENCE  OF  CHILDREN. 


203 


them.  He  had  an  inexhaustible  repertory  of  small 
dramas  for  the  benefit  of  his  nieces,  in  which  he  sus- 
tained an  endless  variety  of  parts  with  a  skill  that  at 
any  rate  was  sufficient  for  his  audience.  An  old 
friend  of  the  family  writes  to  my  sister,  Lad)7  Holland: 
'  I  well  remember  that  there  was  one  never-failing 
game  of  building  up  a  den  with  newspapers  behind  the 
sofa,  and  of  enacting  robbers  and  tigers !  you  shrieking 
with  terror,  but  always  fascinated,  and  begging  him  to 
begin  again;  and  there  was  a  daily  recurring  observa- 
tion from  him,  that,  after  all,  children  were  the  only 
true  poets.1 

"  Macaulay  was  so  devoid  of  egotism,  and  exacted 
so  little  deference  and  attention  from  those  with  whom 
he  lived,  that  the  young  people  around  him  were  under 
an  illusion  which  to  this  day  it  is  pleasant  to  recall.  It 
was  long,  very  long,  before  we  guessed  that  the  world 
thought  much  of  one  who  appeared  to  think  so  little  of 
himself.  I  remember  telling  my  schoolfellows  that  I 
had  an  uncle  who  was  about  to  publish  a  '  History  of 
England  '  in  two  volumes,  each  containing  six  hundred 
and  fifty  pages ;  but  it  never  crossed  my  mind  that  the 
work  in  question  would  have  anything  to  distinguish 
it  except  its  length.  As  years  went  on,  it  seemed 
strange  and  unnatural  to  hear  him  more  and  more 
frequently  talked  of  as  a  great  man;  and  we  slowl}^ 
and  almost  reluctantly  awoke  to  the  conviction  that 
1  Uncle  Tom  '  was  cleverer,  as  well  as  more  good-na- 
tured, than  his  neighbors. " 


204 


INFLUENCE  OF  CHILDREN. 


There  is  something  inexpressibly  touching  in  the 
provisions  of  the  will  of  an  eccentric  millionaire,  named 
McDonough,  who  resided  at  New  Orleans,  which  con- 
tains the  following  clause:  "  And  (I  was  near  forget- 
ting that)  I  have  still  one  request  to  make,  one  little 
favor  still  to  ask,  and  it  shall  be  the  last.  It  is,  that  it 
may  be  permitted,  annually,  to  the  children  of  the  free 
schools,  situate  nearest  my  place  of  interment,  to  plant 
and  water  a  few  flowers  around  my  grave.  This  little 
act  will  have  a  double  tendency;  it  will  open  their 
young  and  susceptible  hearts  to  gratitude  and  love  to 
their  divine  Creator,  for  having  raised  up,  as  a  humble 
instrument  of  his  bounty  to  them,  a  poor,  frail  worm 
of  earth  like  me;  and  teach  them,  at  the  same  time, 
what  they  are,  whence  they  came,  and  whither  they 
must  return." 

Stern  man  of  business  though  he  was,  yet  his  heart 
yearned  to  be  remembered  by  merry-hearted  children. 

Miss  Muloch  draws  a  picture  of  childhood  in  these 
graceful  words:  u  A  child  asleep;  painters  draw  it, 
poets  sing  about  it.  Yet  the  root  of  its  mystery  re- 
mains a  mystery  still.  About  it  seem  to  float  the  secrets 
of  earth  and  heaven — life  and  death;  whence  we  came 
and  whither  we  go;  what  God  does  with  and  in  us, 
and  what  He  expects  us  to  do  for  ourselves.  It  is  as 
if,  while  we  gaze,  we  could  catch  drifting  past  us  a 
few  threads  of  that  wonderful  web  which  in  its  en- 
tirety He  holds  solely  in  His  own  hand.7'' 

When  the  cares  and  burdens  of  life  are  upon  us,  and 


INFLUENCE  OF  CHILDREN. 


205 


our  spirits  sink  and  faint  under  the  load,  how  refresh- 
ing it  is  to  turn  to  the  sports  and  prattle  of  children. 

It  has  been  well  said:  "  Children  may  teach  us  one 
blessed — one  enviable  art — the  art  of  being  happy. 
Kind  nature  has  given  to  them  that  useful  power  of 
accommodation  to  circumstances,  which  compensates 
for  many  external  disadvantages,  and  it  is  only  by  in- 
judicious management  that  it  is  lost.  Give  him  but  a 
moderate  portion  of  food  and  kindness,  and  the  peas- 
ant's child  is  happier  than  the  duke's;  free  from  arti- 
ficial wants,  unsatiated  by  indulgence,  all  nature  min- 
isters to  his  pleasure;  he  can  carve  out  felicity  from  a 
bit  of  hazel  twig,  or  fish  for  it  successfully  in  a  puddle. 
I  love  to  hear  the  boisterous  joy  of  a  troop  of  ragged 
urchins,  whose  cheap  playthings  are  nothing  more 
than  mud.  snow,  sticks,  or  oyster  shells,  or  to  watch 
the  quiet  enjoyment  of  a  half-clothed,  half-washed  fel- 
low of  four  or  live  years  old.  who  sits,  with  a  large, 
rusty  knife,  and  a  lump  of  bread  and  bacon,  at  his 
father's  door,  with  a  serenity  that  might  move  the 
envy  of  an  alderman." 

Charles  Kingsley  confessed,  after  he  had  experienced 
the  triumphs  of  a  singularly  successful  life :  "  There  is 
no  pleasure  that  I  have  experienced  like  a  child's  mid- 
summer holiday — the  time.  I  mean,  when  two  or  three 
of  us  used  to  go  away  up  the  brook,  and  take  our  din- 
ners with  us.  and  come  home  at  night  tired,  dirty, 
happy,  scratched  beyond  recognition,  with  a  great 
nosegay,  three  little  trout,  and  one  shoe,  the  other 


206 


INFLUENCE  OF  CHILDREN. 


having  been  used  for  a  boat,  till  it  had  gone  down 
with  all  hands,  out  of  soundings." 

We  little  realize  how  much  inspiration  we  gather 
from  child  life,  how  we  unconsciously  take  lessons 
from  them  in  the  difficult  qualities  of  trust  and  sim- 
plicity. A  graceful  writer  has  said:  "  When  we  feel, 
like  Wordsworth,  that  c  the  world  is  ever  with  us;' 
that  we  are  growing  of  the  earth,  earthy;  that  our 
perceptions  of  the  beauty  and  truth  of  God's  universe 
are  becoming  dull — we  rush  into  the  society  of 
children — into  the  company  of  hearty,  happy,  silly 
children,  who  love  flowers  and  birds,  pet  rabbits, 
clowns  and  pantomimes,  strange,  wonderful  legends 
and  mystic  elfin  traditions — not  the  abominably  clever 
little  men  and  women  produced  by  the  '  forcing  sys- 
tem,' who  have  no  relish  for  the  simple  jo}7s  of  child- 
hood. We  join  them  in  their  revels;  we  listen  to  their 
prattle ;  we  make  their  pursuits  ours,  their  pleasures 
ours,  and,  as  far  as  we  can,  their  nature  ours.  It  is  as 
if  we  were  in  the  company  of  angels  unawares.  Our 
heart  grows  purer,  our  mind  grows  healthier;  some- 
thing of  a  new  life  and.  a  new  spirit,  however  evan- 
escent, lifts  us  above  ourselves.  Who  is  it  speaks  of 
children  as  'birds  without  wings  from  Paradise?1 
His  must  have  been  a  wise  and  kindly  nature — the 
comparison  is  so  apt,  so  true;  for  do  they  not,  with 
their  pleasant  voices,  make  a  sweet  and  happy  music, 
which  seems  like  an  air  from  heaven, — like  the  tender 
strain  of  some  angelic  choir?" 


INFLUENCE  OF  CHILDREN. 


207 


Said  Theodore  Parker:  "  A  baby  is  better  for  the 
heart  than  a  whole  academy  of  philosophers.1'  How 
it  softens  the  nature,  and  freshens  the  heart.  Some 
sympathetic  soul  offers  this  fond  tribute  to  babyhood, 
which  will  find  a  response  in  every  fond  parent's 
breast:  "The  baby  rules  everybody  in  the  house; 
issues  her  mandates  in  the  feeblest  of  voices,  yet  all 
hasten  to  interpret  her  wishes.  It  matters  not  that 
they  be  expressed  in  the  most  unintelligible  of  dialects, 
every  one  intuitively  makes  out  a  wondrously  wise 
meaning,  and  watches  with  the  intensest  interest  for 
the  next  utterance.  Even  papa  is  vanquished  by 
baby's  feeble  cry,  and  when  she  stretches  out  her  arms 
to  go  to  him,  he  is  prouder,  happier  far,  than  when 
news  of  gain,  by  sea  or  land,  quickens  ambition,  but 
stifles  the  gentler  voices  of  his  soul,  the  music  tones  of 
humanity. 

"Is  baby  asleep?  Then  is  the  household  hushed, 
and  the  mother,  as  she  sits  by  its  side,  sewing,  and 
occasionally  rocking  the  cradle  with  her  foot,  is  most 
truly  the  '  guardian  angel'  of  its  happiness,  and  the 
smiles  which  flit  across  its  innocent  face  might  well  be 
the  reflections  of  her  own  love-lighted  beauty. 

u  Is  baby  sick?  How  dull  and  dark  seems  the  dwell- 
ing? How  envied  the  mother,  because  she  only  can 
soothe  the  little  sufferer  and  hush  that  plaintive  moan- 
ing! and  if  the  baby  dies,  how  silently  and  shiveringly 
do  the  household  gather  round  the  family  hearth, 
whence  the  light  is  departed,  and   the  fire  seems 


208 


INFLUENCE  OF  CHILDREN. 


quenched!  Those  who  say  it  was  only  a  baby,  never 
knew  how  the  tendrils  of  affection  twine  round  the  in- 
nocent helplessness,  which  we  would  fain  guard  from 
sorrow,  and  develop  into  the  full  maturity  of  truth  and 
beauty.  Such  never  knew  how  that  tiny  touch  can 
magnetize  into  f  orgetfulness  the  pain  of  care ;  how  the 
thought  that  upon  that  mind  is  yet  unwritten  the  con- 
sciousness of  sin,  makes  us  emulate  ourselves,  in  the 
desire  to  throw  upon  its  impressive  nature  the  light  of 
a  holy  life;  and  how  the  wondrous  mystery  of  its  un- 
folding life  sends  us  to  the  Mercy  Seat  seeking  the 
wisdom  that  cometh  from  above,  that  we  may  train 
the  child  for  God." 

In  the  early  days  of  California,  during  the  fierce 
struggle  for  gold,  there  were  no  women  for  a  long 
time  in  the  mining  towns.  At  length  a  miner  brought 
his  wife  and  young  child  to  one  of  the  camps,  and  oil 
one  occasion  took  them  to  the  rude  theatre.  During 
the  entertainment,  when  the  orchestra  was  playing,  the 
child  cried/  The  rough  miners  had  not  heard  a  child's 
voice  for  many  months,  and  it  carried  them  back  at 
once  to  the  homes  they  had  left.  An  old  miner  got 
up,  and  with  eyes  swimming  with  tears,  and  voice 
trembling  with  emotion,  shouted,  uStop  those  fiddles," 
and  the  orchestra  stopped,  and  the  cry  of  the  child 
was  cheered  until  it  became  quiet."  A  lover  of 
children  made  this  observation:  "  People  who  habit- 
ually put  children  out  of  their  hearts,  and  close  their 
doors  upon  them,  have  no  idea  how  much  comfort  they 


INFLUENCE  OF  CHILDREN. 


209 


set  aside — what  pleasure,  what  amusement.  Of  course 
the  little  creatures  meddle  with  things,  and  leave  the 
traces  of  their  ringers  on  the  wall,  and  cry,  and 
'  bother'  a  little;  but,  when  one  gets  into  the  way  of 
it,  as  mothers  and  other  loving  relatives  do,  those 
things  become  of  minor  importance.  Children  say 
such  pretty  things,  and  do  such  funny  things,  the  touch 
of  their  little  hands  is  so  soft,  the  sound  of  their  little 
voices  so  sweet,  their  faces  are  so  pretty,  their  move- 
ments so  graceful  and  comical,  the  whole  family  goes 
baby-mad — and  it  is  no  wonder.  No  book  was  ever 
written  that  was  half  so  interesting  as  a  little  child 
that  is  learning  to  talk  and  to  think,  developing  from 
a  tiny  animal  into  a  being  with  a  conscience  and  a  heart. " 

Fanny  Fern  said:  "  To  my  eye,  no  statue  that  the 
rich  man  places  ostentatiously  in  his  window,  is  to  be 
compared  to  the  little  expectant  face  pressed  against 
the  window  pane,  watching  for  its  father,  when  his 
day's  labor  is  done.1'  What  father's  heart  does  not 
respond  to  this  little  touch  of  every  day  life.  How 
his  heart  swells  with  happy  pride  and  joy,  as  he  feels 
the  little  ringers,  and  receives  the  childish  clasp  of 
affection.  The  wealth  of  the  Indies  could  not  pur- 
chase such  happiness  or  satisfaction.  A  loving  nature 
has  said:  "  Call  not  that  man  wretched  who,  what- 
ever else  he  suffers  as  to  pain  inflicted,  pleasure  denied, 
has  a  child  for  whom  he  hopes  and  on  whom  he  doats. 
Poverty  may  grind  him  to  the  dust,  obscurity  may 
cast  its  darkest  mantle  over  him,  the  song  of  the  gay 


210 


INFLUENCE  OF  CHILDREN. 


may  be  far  from  his  dwelling,  his  face  may  be  un- 
known to  his  neighbors,  and  his  voice  may  be  un- 
heeded by  those  among  whom  he  dwells — even  pain 
may  rack  his  joints,  and  sleep  may  flee  from  his  pillow, 
but  he  has  a  gem,  with  which  he  would  not  part  for 
wealth,  defying  computation,  for  fame  filling  a  world's 
ear,  for  the  luxury  of  the  highest  health,  or  the 
sweetest  sleep  that  ever  set  upon  a  mortal's  eye." 

There  is  a  proverb,  u  He  who  takes  the  child  by  the 
hand  takes  the  mother  by  the  heart." 

No  truer  words  than  these  were  ever  uttered:  "  A 
house  full  of  children  composes  as  powerful  a  group  of 
motives  as  ever  moved  a  heart  or  hand;  and  the  secret 
of  many  a  gallant  struggle  and  triumph  in  the  world's 
battles  may  be  found  throned  in  its  mother's  lap  at 
home,  or  done  up  in  a  little  bundle  of  white  flannel 
A  nation's  hope,  before  now,  has  been  found  in  a  bas- 
ket of  bulrushes  Get  ready  to  be  afraid  of  the  man 
that  children  are  afraid  of,  and  be  sure  that  he  who 
hates  them  is  not  himself  worth  loving." 

One  of  the  most  beautiful  and  suggestive  descrip- 
tions of  the  good  time  coming,  foretold  by  prophets, 
is  contained  in  the  simple  words,  "  A  little  child  shall 
lead  them." 

Many  an  erring  soul  has  been  led  back  to  purity  of 
life  and  heart  by  a  little,  toddling  child.  The  follow- 
ing incident  has  been  related  as  a  sketch  from  prison 

life: 

"  A  wicked  woman  was  arrested  for  drunkenness, 


INFLUENCE  OF  CHILDREN. 


211 


and,  seeing  a  lost  child,  she  pulled  herself  away  from 
the  officer  and  in  a  moment  had  the  child  in  her  arms, 
and  her  face  pressed  close  to  its  face.  M  had  one 
like  you  once,1  she  murmured,  'but  he  died.  That 
was  so  lon^  a^o  that  I  thought  I  had  forgotten  it, — 
there  has  been  so  much  happening  since — so  much 
that  I  wish  to  God  had  never  happened.'  In  a  mo- 
ment she  looked  up,  as  sober  as  a  mother  by  the 
hearthstone,  and  asked  whether  she  could  take  the 
child  into  the  cell  with  her,  and,  having  permission, 
she  sat  all  night  with  the  sleeping  child  held  close  to 
her  bosom.  The  tears  that  fell  from  her  eyes  were  as 
balm  to  her  bruised  heart,  and  the  little  one  lifted  her 
soul  to  purer  heights  than  it  had  known  for  many, 
many  weary  days  in  the  past." 

A  drunkard  being  asked  how  he  reformed,  kept  re- 
peating, "  The  little  shoes  did  it.11  On  being  pressed 
to  explain,  he  said  that  one  evening  the  liquor  seller's 
little  girl  came  in  and  put  out  her  feet  to  show  her  fine 
new  shoes.  He  thought  of  his  own  little  girl,  with  her 
bare  feet;  of  his  starving  wife  and  wretched  home;  of 
health,  friends  and  fortune  lost.  It  pierced  him  like  a 
knife.  He  went  out  the  next  day,  went  to  work,  and 
with  his  earnings  bought  some  bread  and  a  pair  of 
shoes,  and  that  was  a  turning  point  to  a  sober  life.  * 

A  story  is  told  of  a  rough,  reckless  man,  who  many 
years  ago  kept  a  rude  tavern  in  the  far  West.  He 
came  from  W ales,  and  from  the  evil  expression  of  his 
eyes  was  known  as  "Wild  Evans."    He  sold  liquor, 


212 


INFLUENCE  OF  CHILDREN. 


fought,  swore,  gambled  and  drank  fearfully,  and  was 
dreaded  as  the  terror  of  that  region.  There  seemed 
to  be  but  one  tender  spot  in  his  nature,  and  that  was 
his  affection  for  his  child,  a  bright  and  beautiful  boy, 
three  years  old.  One  day  he  drank  a  glass  of  liquor, 
and  took  up  his  boy  in  his  arms  to  drain  the  sugar  at 
the  bottom.  The  child  eagerly  drank  it,  then  looked 
up  into  his  face  and  swore  at  him.  The  father  was 
dumb  with  astonishment,  put  him  on  the  floor,  and 
looked  about  as  if  bewildered.  His  eye  fell  on  the  old 
family  Bible,  which  they  had  brought  from  their  far- 
away home  in  Wales,  and  he  thought  of  his  mother  as 
he  had  often  seen  her  reading  it.  That  first  oath  from 
his  boy  had  set  his  wicked  life  plainly  before  him.  He 
seized  a  pack  #  of  cards  and  threw  them  into  the  fire, 
and  then  carried  out  all  his  liquors  and  poured  them 
on  the  ground,  and  ever  since,  for  many  long  years, 
has  been  known  and  loved  as  a  good  neighbor,  a 
preacher  in  rough  mining  camps,  and  an  active  Sun- 
day-school worker. 

Children  have  sharp  eyes,  and  parents  must  be 
wholly  blinded  to  their  responsibility  who  will  not 
strive  to  put  away  evil  habits  for  the  sake  of  their 
children,  if  for  no  other  motive. 

A  keen  observer  of  children  has  said:  "  Every  one 
who  has  been  much  among  children  and  young  people 
ought  to  have  learned  one  thing  about  them — that 
they  are  keenly  observant.  Few  things  escape  their 
notice.    They  are  something  like  that  mystic  being 


INFLUENCE  OF  CHILDREN. 


213 


spoken  of  by  the  Hebrew  seer,  and  described  by  him 
as  being  '  full  of  eyes.7  They  watch  us  when  we  little 
think  it.  People  sometimes  fancy  it  is  an  easy  thing  to 
deceive  the  young.  Alas !  they  make  a  fearful  blun- 
der, It  is  easier  to  hoodwink  adults  than  juveniles. 
One  sometimes  hears  folks  talk  in  an  exceedingly 
1  knowing  '  and  confident  style  about  '  getting  on  the 
blind  side  of  children.1  But  the  fact  is  that  it  is  not, 
after  all,  a  very  easy  thing  to  find  the  said  1  blind 
side,'  and  often,  when  we  are  deluding  ourselves  with 
the  notion  that  we  have  found  it,  lo!  there  are  a  pair 
of  large,  watchful  eyes  fixed  on  us  all  the  while !  Rest 
assured,  it  is  a  dangerous  thing  to  presume  too  much 
on  the  ignorance  of  the  young." 

The  world  is  growing  better  as  the  influence  of 
childhood  upon  it  is  more  and  more  recognized.  Never 
has  there  been  a  time  when  so  much  has  been  done  to 
meet  their  needs  and  to  make  their  lives  happy  and 
healthful.  The  most  graceful  exponents  of  art,  the 
most  brilliant  minds  in  literature,  the  most  ingenious 
contrivers  of  all  that  can  amuse  and  instruct,  are  laid 
under  contribution  to  minister  to  childhood,  and  in 
their  happiness,  is  largely  reflected  the  happiness  of 
the  world. 


(STAINING  (gHILDI^EN. 


IOLUMES  have  been  written,  and  theories 
(2^\W(°  without  number  have  been  advanced  on  this 
most  important  subject,  and  yet  there  are  a 
few  practical  fundamental  principles  which 
underlie  all  mere  theories,  which  can  be  reduced  to  a 
limited  space. 

One  of  the  most  important  things  is  the  training  of 
the  child  to  submission  and  obedience  to  proper  au- 
thority. Without  this,  any  system  of  instruction  is  radi- 
cally defective,  and  nothing  can  make  up  for  it. 
There  must  be  discipline  and  obedience,  for  if  the  child 
is  allowed  to  hold  in  contempt  the  law  of  the  parent 
and  household,  he  may  reasonably  be  expected  to  hold 
in  the  same  contempt  the  laws  of  society,  of  the  state 
and  of  his  Creator.  Indulgence  of  parents  is  one  of 
the  crying  evils  of  the  age. 

By  proper  discipline  is  not  meant  a  brutal  exercise  of 
physical  power  over  the  child,  for  this  would  develop 
anger  and  stubbornness,  but  the  exercise  of  reasonable 
methods.  A  practical  educator  gives  this  as  his  ex- 
perience: "  I  know  that  many  persons  would  think  it 
wrong  not  to  break  down  the  child's  self-will  by  main 
force,  to  come  to  battle  with  him  and  show  him  that 


2T 


TRAINING  CHILDREN. 


215 


he  is  the  weaker  vessel;  but  my  conviction  is,  that  such 
struggles  onlv  tend  to  make  his  self-will  more  robust. 
If  you  can  skillfully  contrive  to  delay  the  dispute  for  a 
few  minutes,  and  get  his  thoughts  off  the  excitement  of 
the  contest,  ten  to  one  he  will  give  in  quite  cheerfully; 
and  this  is  far  better  for  him  than  tears  and  punish- 
ment.'" 

The  following  incident  from  the  home-life  of  the 
royal  family  of  Russia  is  a  fine  illustration  of  what  can 
be  accomplished  by  parental  tact:  "  The  Crown 
Prince  of  Russia  was  always  a  very  sensible  man  in  the 
management  of  his  household,  and  he  is  ably  seconded 
bv  his  wife.  On  one  occasion  the  governor  of  his 
children  came  to  him  and  said: 

"  '  Your  Highness,  I  must  complain  of  the  little 
prince;  he  refuses  to  have  his  face  washed  in  the  morn- 
ing.7 

u  '  Does  he?' answered  the  Crown  Prince.  'Well 
remedv  that.    After  this  let  him  go  unwashed.' 

"  Now,  the  sentries  have  to  salute  every  member  of 
the  royal  family — children  and  all — whenever  they 
pass.  The  da}'  after,  the  little  four  year-old  prince 
went  out  for  a  walk  with  his  governor.  As  they 
passed  a  sentry-box  where  a  grim  soldier  was  posted, 
the  man  stood  rigid  without  presenting  arms. 

"  The  little  prince,  accustomed  to  universal  defer- 
ence, looked  displeased  but  said  nothing.  Presently 
another  sentry  was  passed.  Neither  did  this  one  give 
a  sign  of  recognition.    The  little  prince  angrily  spoke 


2l6 


TRAINING  CHILDREN. 


of  it  to  his  governor,  and  they  passed  on.  And  when 
the  walk  was  finished,  and  they  had  met  many  soldiers, 
and  none  of  them  saluted  the  prince,  the  little  fellow 
dashed  into  his  father's  presence,  exclaiming: 

"  'Papa!  Papa,  you  must  whip  every  man  in  your 
guards!    They  refuse  to  salute  when  I  pass.' 

u  ' Ah,  my  son,'  said  the  Crown  Prince,  'they  do 
rightly,  for  clean  soldiers  never  salute  a  dirty  little 
prince.''  After  that  the  boy  took  a  shower  bath  every 
morning.'7 

Marion  Harland  gives  this  wise  advice  to  mothers  on 
this  subject  of  tact:  "Be  tactful  in  the  avoidance  of 
needless  issues.  Never,  except  to  defend  a  principle, 
throw  down  the  gauntlet  or  give  battle.  But,  the  first 
shot  fired,  stand  your  ground.  Break  engagements, 
consume  hours  of  time,  bear  your  own  pain  and  the  sight 
ot  his — brave  and  do  anything  rather  than  yield  the 
field  to  him  as  conqueror.  He  will  never  forget  your 
defeat,  nor  let  you  do  it." 

Love  will  suggest  many  expedients  for  making 
obedience  as  easy  as  possible,  but  let  no  one  fail  to 
teach  the  child  that  obedience  must  be  complete  and 
unquestioning.  It  is  a  pitiful  sight  to  see  a  parent 
standing  helplessly  before  a  child  trying  to  invent  some 
way  of  wheedling  it  into  obeying,  while  the  child  daily 
grows  more  self-willed,  and  early  learns  to  despise  the 
authority  he  has  never  been  made  to  respect. 

A  keen  observer  of  children  gives  it  as  his  opinion 
that  "  The  first  six  months  of  a  child's  life  shapes  him 


TRAINING  CHILDREN.  21 J 

more  than  any  subsequent  six  months;  and  his  treat- 
ment in  that  period  has  a  vast  deal  to  do  with  the  ease 
of  all  his  future  shaping  in  both  spirit  and  conduct. 
In  the  first  two  years  of  his  life,  a  child  learns  more 
than  in  all  the  rest  of  his  life  put  together;  more  that 
is  indispensable  to  him  in  life;  more  that  goes  to  de- 
cide his  place  among  others.  By  the  time  he  is  seven, 
it  is  pretty  well  settled  how  much  of  a  child's  original 
self  is  to  be  preserved  in  his  personality,  and  how  far 
he  is  to  be  conformed  in  likeness  to  the  people  about 
him.  Commonly  a  child's  character  and  future  are 
mainly  shaped,  or  directed,  for  all  time,  before  he  has 
passed  seven  years  of  age." 

tk  Children,1'  says  Joubert  "have  more  need  of  mod- 
els than  of  critics."  How  important  it  is,  then,  that 
during  these- first,  most  impressionable  years  of  a  child's 
life,  it  should  be  in  the  care  of  those  only  whose  influ- 
nece  and  example  are  blameless. 

Some  one  has  related  an  incident  in  the  life  of  John 
Quincy  Adams,  which  shows  at  what  an  early  age  his 
mother  laid  the  foundation  of  his  sterling  character: 
"  Not  long  before  the  death  of  Mr.  Adams  a  gentle- 
man said  to  him,  1 I  have  found  out  who  made  you.' 
4  What  do  you  mean?'  asked  Mr.  Adams.  The 
gentleman  replied,  1 1  have  been  reading  the  published 
letters  of  your  mother.'  'If,'  this  gentleman  remarks, 
'  I  had  spoken  that  dear  name  to  some  little  boy,  who 
had  been  for  weeks  away  from  his  mother,  his  eyes 
would  not  have  flashed  more  brightly  nor  his  face 


218 


TRAINING  CHILDREN. 


glowed  more  quickly,  than  did  the  eyes  of  that  vener- 
able old  man  when  I  pronounced  the  name  of  his 
mother.  He  stood  up  in  his  peculiar  manner  and  said. 
'  Yes,  sir;  all  that  is  good  in  me  I  owe  to  my 
mother.'  " 

Parental  influence  is  one  of  the  most  important  ele- 
ments in  the  formation  of  the  child's  character.  An 
able  essayist  has  truly  said:  u  The  spirit  which  his 
parents  display  toward  one  another,  or  toward  their 
servants,  or  toward  those  with  whom  they  are  least  on 
their  guard,  is  a  far  more  impressive  pattern  to  the 
child  than  the  model  spirit  described  by  the  parent  on 
a  Sunday  afternoon  or  a  bed-time  religious  talk  with 
the  child.  What  the  child  is  permitted  to  do,  at  the 
table  or  away  from  it,  when  the  family  is  all  by  itself, 
is  more  likely  to  stand  out  in  the  child's  conduct  when 
visitors  are  there,  than  the  company  manners  which 
were  enjoined  on  the  child  most  faithfully  and  repeat- 
edly while  he  was  being  washed  and  dressed  for  the 
occasion.  Habits  of  thought,  standards  of  conduct, 
rules  of  taste,  purposes  of  life,  are  given  or  promoted 
in  the  work  of  child  shaping  at  home,  by  example 
rather  than  by  precept ;  unconsciously  more  often  than 
by  design."" 

Said  the  mother  of  a  large,  well-ordered  family :  "  I 
never  fret  about  little  faults  of  manner,  nor  even  about 
transient  irritability  in  my  children.  Children,  as  they 
are  growing  up,  go  through  many  temporary  condi- 
tions which,  if  apparently  unnoticed,  pass  away.  In 


TRAINING  CHILDREN. 


219 


fact,  there  are  little  moral  disturbances  to  be  expected, 
like  whooping  cough  and  measles  in  physical  life,  and 
if  the  general  home  atmosphere  be  wholesome  and  the 
trend  right,  I  do  not  think  it  worth  while  to  be  too 
much  distressed  over  occasional  naughtiness." 

Another  home  educator  makes  these  sensible  sug- 
gestions: "Let  the  children  learn  by  experience  in 
the  loving  atmosphere  of  home  without  fear  of  harsh 
criticisms  or  fault-finding.  Home  is  the  place  for  exper- 
iment and  failure  as  well  as  for  success,  for  sympathy 
and  encouragement  quite  as  much  as  for  discipline. 
Guide  their  unsteady  feet,  but  sometimes  let  them  go 
alone,  even  though  they  may  fall.  Then  pick  up  the 
little  stumblers;  but  beware  of  blaming  them,  or 
laughing  at  their  childish  mistakes.  A  thoughtless 
laugh  may  rankle  in  the  heart  of  a  sensitive  child  for 
months  —  may  never  be  wholly  forgotten.1' 

A  great  mistake  is  often  made  in  confiding  the  care 
and  management  of  children  to  those  who  are  guided 
only  by  mercenary  motives.  The  great  responsibility 
of  training  children  cannot  be  delegated  by  the  parent, 
however  wise  and  judicious  the  instructor  whom  they 
may  select. 

The  first  school  of  the  child  is  in  the  home,  and  the 
child  has  the  right  to  the  personal  supervision  of  the 
parents  as  its  first  teachers.  How  efficient  and  lasting 
such  an  influence  may  be,  is  thus  attested  by  a  prison 
chaplain  of  wide  observation.  He  says:  u  The  last 
thing  forgotten  in  all  the  recklessness  of  dissolute 


220 


TRAINING  CHILDREN. 


profligacy,  is  the  prayer  or  hymn  taught  by  a 
mother's  lips,  or  uttered  at  a  father's  knee;  and  when 
there  seems  to  have  been  any  pains  bestowed  even  by 
one  parent  to  train  up  a  child  aright,  there  is  in  general 
more  than  ordinary  ground  for  hope.1' 

But  it  is  the  duty  and  privilege  of  the  parents,  not 
only  by  their  own  blameless  life  and  example,  and  by 
every  means  in  their  power,  to  build  up  a  good  char- 
acter in  their  children,  but  also  to  stimulate  and  direct 
their  intellectual  life.  A  lover  of  children  has  said: 
"  Children  hunger  perpetually  for  new  ideas.  They 
will  learn  with  pleasure  from  the  lips  of  their  parents 
what  they  deem  it  drudgery  to  study  in  books ;  and 
even  if  they  have  the  misfortune  to  be  deprived  of 
many  educational  advantages,  they  will  grow  up  intel- 
ligent if  they  enjoy  in  childhood  the  privilege  of  listen- 
ing daily  to  the  conversation  of  intelligent  people. 
We  sometimes  see  parents,  who  are  the  life  of  every 
company  which  they  enter,  dull,  silent  and  uninterest- 
ing at  home  among  their  own  children.  If  they  have 
not  mental  activity  and  mental  stores  sufficient  for 
both,  let  them  first  use  what  they  have  for  their  own 
household.  A  silent  house  is  a  dull  place  for  young 
people,  a  place  from  which  they  will  escape  if  they  can. 
How  much  useful  information,  on  the  other  hand,  is 
often  given  in  pleasant  family  conversation,  and  what 
unconscious,  but  excellent  mental  training  in  lively 
social  argument.  Cultivate,  to  the  utmost,  all  the 
graces  of  home  conversation." 


TRAINING  CHILDREN. 


221 


The  mother  of  several  wide-awake  boys  thus  tells 
how  she  makes  home  attractive  to  them:  "  I  remem- 
ber that  children  are  children,  and  must  have  amuse- 
ments. I  fear  that  the  abhorrence  with  which  some 
good  parents  regard  any  play  for  children  is  the  reason 
why  children  go  away  for  pleasure. 

u  Husband  and  I  used  to  read  history,  and  at  the 
end  of  each  chapter  ask  some  questions,  requiring  the 
answer  to  be  looked  up  if  not  given  directly. 

44  We  follow  a  similar  plan  with  the  children;  some- 
times we  play  one  game  and  sometimes  another, 
always  planning  with  books,  stories,  plays,  or  treats  of 
some  kind,  to  make  the  evenings  at  home  more  attrac- 
tive than  they  can  be  made  abroad. 

44  When  there  is  a  good  concert,  lecture  or  entertain- 
ment,  we  all  go  together  to  enjoy  it;  for  whatever  is 
worth  the  price  of  admission  to  us  older  people  is 
equally  valuable  to  the  children,  and  we  let  them  see 
that  we  spare  no  expense  where  it  is  to  their  advantage 
to  be  out  of  an  evening. 

44  But  the  greater  number  of  our  evenings  are  spent 
quietly  at  home.  Sometimes  it  requires  quite  an  effort 
to  sit  quietly,  talking  and  playing  with  them,  when  my 
work-basket  is  filled  with  unfinished  work,  and  books 
and  papers  lie  unread  on  the  table. 

44  But  as  the  years  go  by,  and  I  see  my  boys  and 
girls  growing  into  home-loving,  modest  young  men 
and  maidens,  I  am  glad  that  I  made  it  my  rule  to  give 
the  best  of  myself  to  my  family." 


222 


TRAINING  CHILDREN. 


Henry  Ward  Beecher  uttered  these  words  of  warn- 
ing to  parents,  which,  if  heeded,  would  save  many  a 
home  from  darkness  and  disgrace  .    "  If  you  want  to 
make  the  ruin  of  a  child  sure,  give  him  liberty  after 
dark.    You  can  not  do  anything  nearer  to  insure  his 
damnation  than  to  let  him  have  liberty  to  go  where 
he  will  without  restraint.    After  dark  he  will  be  sure 
to  get  into  communication  with  people  that  will  un- 
dermine all  his  good  qualities.    Nineteen  out  of  every 
twenty    allowed  perfect  freedom  by  night  will  be 
wounded  by  it.    There  is  nothing  more  important 
than  for  a  child  to  be  at  home  at  night,  or,  if  he  is 
abroad,  you  should  be  with  him.    If  he  is  to  see  any 
sights,  or  take  any  pleasure,  there  is  nothing  that  he 
should  see  that  you  should  not  see  with  him.    It  is  not 
merely  that  the  child  should  be  broken  down,  but 
there  are  thoughts  that  never  ought  to  find  a  passage 
into  a  man's  brain.    As  an  eel,  if  he  wriggle  across 
your  carpet,  will  leave  his  slime  which  no  brushing  can 
ever  efface,  so  there  are  thoughts  that  never  can  be 
got  rid  of,  once  permitted  to  enter;  and  there  are  in- 
dividuals going  round  with  obscene  books  and  pictures 
under  the  lappels  of  their  coats  that  will  leave  ideas  in 
the  mind  of  your  child  that  will  never  be  effaced.  I 
don't  believe  in  a  child  seeing  life,  as  it  is  called,  with 
its  damnable  lust  and  wickedness,  to  have  all  his  im- 
agination set  fire  with  the  flames  of  hell.  Nobody 
goes  through  this  fire  but  they  are  burned,  burned, 
burned;  and  they  can't  get  rid  of  the  scars." 


TRAINING  CHILDREN. 


223 


The  spirit  of  the  home  should  be  kindness.  A  re 
cent  writer  has  made  some  excellent  suggestions  to 
parents  on  this  point — particularly  as  employed  in  their 
methods  of  home  instruction.  "  Kindness  is  the  lever 
by  whose  power  the  machinery  of  intellectual  progress 
should  be  kept  in  motion.  Approval  following  success 
is  of  far  greater  efficacy,  as  a  stimulus  to  further 
efforts,  than  severity  on  failure.  The  little  triumphs 
and  successes  of  the  young  mind  should  never  be  in- 
differently passed  over  without  a  token  of  just  and  fit- 
ting praise  from  the  parent's  lips.  The  love  of  appro- 
bation is  one  of  the  strongest  incentives  to  improve- 
ment and  industry  which  the  Creator  has  implanted  in 
the  human  mind.  In  the  child,  this  feeling  is  very 
predominant;  and  if  disappointed  of  its  justly-earned 
tribute,  will  be  checked,  and  the  child  disheartened 
and  mortified.  Praise,  then,  when  merited,  should 
never  be  withheld.  It  is  the  chief,  indeed  generally 
the  only,  recompense  for  which  children  look;  and  it  is 
a  bitter  and  injudicious  cruelty  to  deprive  them  of  it. 
The  approval  and  the  censure  of  its  parents  and 
teachers  should  be  the  guiding  stars  of  a  child's  exist- 
ence." 

Washington  Irving,  in  a  description  of  one  of  his  in- 
imitable characters,  says:  "  It  was  the  policy  of  the 
good  old  gentleman  to  make  his  children  feel  that 
home  was  the  happiest  place  in  the  world;  and  I  value 
this  delicious  home  feeling  as  one  of  the  choicest  gifts 
a  parent  can  bestow.'1 


224 


TRAINING  CHILDREN. 


Another  writer  has  beautifully  said:  "  It  takes  but 
little  to  give  a  child  pleasure,  and  the  longest  life  is 
not  long  enough  to  banish  the  recollection.  Remem- 
ber the  happiness  of  your  own  childhood,  and  ask  your 
self  what  earth  contains  that  could  purchase  from  you 
the  blessed  memory  of  those  golden  days.  Then  store 
the  children's  minds  with  happy  memories  while  you 
may.  Soon,  too  soon,  their  childhood  days  will  be 
past,  and  your  loved  ones  must  go  out  into  their  several 
ways  to  meet  their  share  of  life's  stern  discipline. 
Happy  will  it  be  for  them  if,  amid  all  their  perplexing 
duties,  disappointments,  joys  and  sorrows,  they  may 
carry  with  them  the  cherished  memory  of  a  happy 
childhood.  And  happy  will  it  be  for  you  if  in  their 
young,  impressible  years,  you  have  forged  a  chain  of 
love  to  bind  their  hearts  to  yours — a  chain  so  strong 
that  time  cannot  rust,  life  cannot  sever,  and  death  can 
only  strengthen." 


Be  I^ind. 


NE  of  the  great  needs  of  the  world  is  more 
kindness, — the  pure,  natural,  unaffected  kind- 
ness of  the  heart.  There  are  multitudes  of 
people  who  are  surrounded  by  all  the  com- 
forts that  wealth  can  bestow,  and  yet  they  carry  with 
them  hearts  empty  and  starving  for  the  simple  kind- 
nesses of  life,  and  would  gladly  exchange  their  pre- 
tentious grandeur  for  poverty  and  its  grim  bareness, 
if  it  could  be  cheered  by  the  sunshine  and  kindness  of 
love.  How  many  there  are  of  good,  true  men  and 
women  who  carry  with  them  into  their  families  and 
society  an  icy,  reserved  manner,  which  chills  every 
circle  they  enter,  and  repels  all  who  come  in  contact 
with  them,  unless  by  some  chance  discovery  their  bet- 
ter nature  is  revealed.  Such  people  seem  to  look  upon 
the  joyous  demonstrations  of  an  impulsive  nature  as  if 
they  were  crimes.  These  are  they  who  make  churches 
formal,  congregations  hypocritical,  social  gatherings 
cold  and  ceremonious,  communities  suspicious  and 
fault  finding,  and  themselves  most  miserable.  It  has 
been  wittily  remarked  on  this  subject  that  the  "  man 
who  stirs  his  cup  of  tea  with  an  icicle,  spoils  the  tea. 
and  chills  his  own  fingers. V/ 

A  group  of  children,  in  their  careless  play,  might 

225 


226 


BE  KIND. 


furnish  more  practical  wisdom  on  this  subject  than  all 
the  store  of  wise  maxims  and  worldly  etiquette. 

Said  a  mother  to  her  little  daughter  who  had  found 
a  new  playmate:  "How  did  you  come  to  know  her 
so  soon?"  "Why,"  said  the  little  girl,  "we  saw  each 
other,  and  I  smiled  at  her,  and  she  smiled  at  me,  and 
then  we  were  acquainted." 

Without  ignoring  those  formalities  of  etiquette  which 
are  necessary  for  the  protection  and  welhbeing  of 
society,  would  not  the  world  be  far  better  if  we  had 
more  of  the  simplicity  and  ingenuousness  of  childhood 
blended  with  our  mature  thoughtfulness  and  reserve? 
The  truth  is,  many  good  people  are  ashamed  to  show 
the  kindness  they  feel.  They  imagine  it  would  indi- 
cate weakness  and  lack  of  dignity  to  weep  with  those 
who  weep,  and  rejoice  wTith  them  that  rejoice,  except 
in  a  very  conventional  manner.  They  entirely  over- 
look the  estimate  in  which  the  better  part  of  the  world 
holds  kind  words  and  actions.  That  daring  sportsman, 
who,  in  the  wilds  of  India,  shot  one  of  a  pair  of  cranes, 
and  saw  the  other  one  exhibit  such  grief  and  affection  at 
the  loss  of  its  mate,  that  he  stood  overwhelmed  with 
shame  and  grief,  and  threw  his  gun  into  a  pool  as  an 
atonement  for  his  cruelty,  exhibited  a  feeling  of  ten- 
derness and  humanity  that  did  him  far  more  honor 
than  all  the  trophies  of  his  venturous  daring  in  forest 
and  field. 

Who  can  estimate  the  influence  of  a  kind  act?  It 
may  affect  an  entire  life,  or  save  a  soul.    Some  one 


BE  KIND. 


227 


has  truly  said,  "  Blessed  is  he  who  gives  joy  even  to  a 
child,  for  he  does  not  know  where  it  will  end.'1 

There  is  a  story  told  of  the  once  famous  editor  of 
the  London  Punch,  Douglas  Jerrold.  that  when  he  was 
a  little,  barefooted  boy.  in  his  native  village,  he  was 
one  Sunday  morning  leaning1  over  the  fence  before  a 
wood  cutter's  cot,  admiring  some  beautiful  flowers. 
The  wood  cutter,  seeing  him,  came  out.  plucked  some  of 
the  most  lovely  ones  and  gave  to  him,  neither  of  them 
saying  a  word  ;  but  Jerrold  went  home,  his  heart  full  of 
delight  and  gratitude,  and  who  can  tell  how  often  the 
memory  of  that  simple  act  of  kindness  cheered  and 
softened  his  heart  in  the  busy,  prosperous  after  years  ? 

Gladstone,  the  great  English  statesman  and  brilliant 
writer,  when  he  visited  a  poor,  sick  boy,  whom  he 
knew  from  seeing  him  sweep  the  street  crossings,  en- 
deared himself  to  the  heart  of  the  people  more  than  by 
his  ablest  speech  or  most  astute  statesmanship. 

That  intrepid  Arctic  explorer,  Sir  John  Franklin, 
though  brave  enough  to  face  death  in  a  thousand  hid' 
eous  forms,  had  yet  such  a  kind  heart  that  one  of  his 
men  said  of  him  that  he  would  never  kill  a  fly,  and 
though  teased  by  them  beyond  expression  when  tak- 
ing observations,  or  performing  other  duties,  he  would 
quietly  desist  from  his  work  and  blow  the  half-gorged 
intruders  from  his  hands,  saying  that  the  world  was 
wide  enough  for  both. 

Even  the  savage  breast  responds  to  the  power  of 
kindness.    When  the  explorer.  Captain  Ross,  in  his 


228 


BE  KIND. 


perilous  journeyings,  met  with  a  hostile  band  of  Esqui 
maux,  who  threatened  to  attack  his  party,  the  brave 
commander  made  gestures  of  friendship,  and  gave 
salutations  of  peace,  and  soon  the  savages  tossed  away 
their  knives  and  spears,  and  extended  their  hands, 
manifesting  their  gratification  by  laughter  and  strange 
gesticulations. 

Some  one  has  said:  "The  door  between  us  and 
heaven  cannot  be  opened,  if  that  between  us  and  our 
fellow  men  be  shut."  So  that  it  is  a  part  of  our  prepar- 
ation for  heaven  that  we  should  cultivate  a  kindly 
spirit  while  on  earth,  and  be  seeking  opportunities  to 
do  good  and  scatter  blessings. 

Be  kind  to  the  young,  for  the  trials  of  life  are  before 
them,  and  in  their  hours  of  struggle  and  discourage- 
ment, how  much  they  will  be  cheered  by  the  bright 
memories  of  past  kindnesses.  Be  kind  to  the  middle- 
aged,  who  are  carrying  the  burdens  of  life  in  the  heat 
of  the  day,  for  sore  is  their  need  of  the  all-soothing 
influences  to  lessen  the  friction  of  their  ceaseless  toil 
and  anxiety.  Above  all,  be  kind  to  the  aged, — those 
who  have  struggled  on  amid  the  storms  of  life  until 
they  have  grown  weary,  and  long,  as  they  approach 
the  haven  of  repose,  to  feel  that  calm  skies  are  above 
them,  and  the  sunshine  of  kindly  natures  about  them. 
Remember  that  the  years  are  fast  bringing  nearer  the 
time  when  you,  too,  shall  stoop  beneath  the  burdens  of 
age,  your  pulse  be  slow,  and  your  step  feeble,  and  then 
how  grateful  to  you  will  be  those  little  attentions  and 


BE  KIND. 


229 


kind  offices  which  it  is  now  in  your  power  to  bestow 
on  others. 

Be  kind,  because  you  will  pass  through  this  world 
but  once,  and  neglected  opportunities  will  not  come 
back  to  you,  even  should  you  recall  them  with  floods 
of  repentant  tears.  Be  kind,  in  mercy  to  yourself,  for 
every  kind  word  that  you  utter,  every  kind  deed  that 
you  do,  will  help  to  fill  your  own  heart  with  gladness, 
and  will  afford  you  such  unutterable  satisfaction  as  the 
wealth  of  a  Croesus  could  not  buy,  nor  the  dreams  of 
ambition  attain. 

Every  heart  hath  its  own  sorrow  and  knows  its  own 
bitterness,  and  if  we  could  look  into  its  unexplored 
depths,  and  know  how  heavy  is  the  weight  of  woe 
ofttimes  hidden  from  human  eyes,  we  should  judge 
differently  of  those  infirmities  of  conduct  which  now 
so  vex  us,  and  should  be  filled  with  a  God-like  charity 
which  would  make  our  lives  fruitful  of  kindly  deeds. 


Kindness  mo  Animals. 


m 

>AYS   the   gentle   Cowper,   the    poet  of 
humanity : 

"  I  would  not  enter  on  my  list  of  friends, 
(Though  graced  with  polished  manners  and 

fine  sense, 
Yet  wanting  sensibility),  the  man 
Who  needlessly  sets  foot  upon  a  worm." 

There  is  something,  even  in  the  thought  of  torturing 
a  dumb  creature,  which  is  inexpressibly  revolting.  It 
cannot  explain  or  reason  or  expostulate,  and  if  it 
shows  any  resistence  to  the  fury  of  the  human  brute 
inflicting  the  injury,  the  cruelty  is  redoubled,  and  the 
outrage  prolonged  and  aggravated.  Man  is  placed  on 
the  earth  to  have  dominion  over  all  things;  but  this 
power  is  a  trust,  and  like  all  other  trusts,  a  day  of 
reckoning  will  come  in  which  an  account  must  be  ren- 
dered by  man  of  all  that  is  committed  to  him.  The 
cruel  persons  who  use  this  power  to  inflict  needless 
pain  on  the  dumb  creatures  under  their  charge,  can 
but  reasonably  expect  that  "  what  measure  they  meet, 
shall  be  measured  to  them  again.1'  There  is  another 
important  phase  of  this  subject  to  be  considered,  and 
that  is,  the  waste  and  loss  incurred  by  cruelty  to 

animals.     Thousands    of   people   make  themselves 

230 


KINDNESS  TO  ANIMALS. 


poorer  from  this  cause,  and  richly  deserve  it.  A 
teamster  or  expressman  has  his  capital  in  his  team; 
but  from  overloading,  want  of  proper  care  and  feeding, 
or  from  cruel  violence,  he  incapacitates  it  for  work,  and 
a  heavy  loss  is  the  result.  The  farmer  leaves  his  stock 
without  shelter,  or  starves,  or  overworks  them,  and  so 
loses  a  horse  in  the  busy  season,  or  a  cow  when  his 
family  need  it,  and  suffers  a  loss  which  weeks  of  hard 
work  will  not  replace.  The  cruel  man  thus  rinds  a 
speedy  retribution  for  his  brutality  in  its  result  to  his 
pocket.  It  pays  to  be  merciful,  as  it  pays  to  do  what 
is  right  in  all  things.  A  man  who  is  truly  just  and 
merciful  will  carry  out  the  principle  of  justice  and 
mercy  wherever  he  is,  and  will  be  considerate  of  the 
comfort  of  everything  in  his  keeping. 

Rowland  Hill  said  he  would  not  give  anything  for  a 
man's  Christianity  whose  horse  could  not  perceive  a 
difference  in  him. 

Said  Sir  Matthew  Hale,  Lord  Chief  Tustice  of  Ensr- 
land:  "  I  have  always  esteemed  it  a  part  of  my  duty 
to  be  merciful  to  my  beasts,  and  it  has  always  been 
my  practice.'1 

Charming,  the  gifted  divine,  thus  relates  an  event  in 
his  childhood  which  influenced  his  whole  life; 
"  Thanks  to  my  stars,  I  can  say  I  have  never  killed  a 
bird.  I  would  not  crush  the  meanest  insect  that 
crawls  upon  the  ground.  They  have  the  same  rio;ht 
to  life  that  I  have;  they  received  it  from  the  same 
Father,  and  I  will  not  mar  the  works  of  God  by  wanton 


232 


KINDNESS  TO  ANIMALS. 


cruelty.  I  can  remember  an  incident  in  my  childhood, 
which  has  given  a  turn  to  my  whole  life  and  character. 
I  found  a  nest  of  birds  in  my  father's  field,  which  held 
four  young  ones.  They  had  no  down  when  I  first  dis- 
covered them.  They  opened  their  little  mouths  as  if 
they  were  hungry,  and  I  gave  them  some  crumbs 
which  were  in  my  pocket.  Every  day  I  returned  to 
feed  them.  As  soon  as  school  was  done,  I  would  run 
home  for  some  bread,  and  sit  by  the  nest  to  see  them 
eat,  for  an  hour  at  a  time.  They  were  now  feathered 
and  almost  ready  to  fly.  When  I  came  one  morning 
I  found  them  all  cut  up  into  quarters.  The  grass 
round  the  nest  was  red  with  blood.  The  little  limbs 
were  raw  and  bloody.  The  mother  was  on  the  tree 
and  the  father  on  the  wall,  mourning  for  their  young. " 

Sir  Walter  Scott  and  Charles  Dickens  were  passion- 
ately fond  of  their  dogs,  and  Bayard  Taylor,  in  his 
beautiful  poem,  "  The  Arab  to  his  Horse,"  reveals  his 
kindness  of  heart  for  animals.  He  once  related  this 
incident:  "  A  distinguished  English  poet  told  me  that 
he  was  once  walking  in  the  country  with  Canon  Kings- 
ley,  when  they  passed  a  lodge  where  an  immense  and 
fierce  mastiff,  confined  by  a  long  chain,  rushed  out 
upon  him.  They  were  just  beyond  his  reach,  but  the 
chain  did  not  seem  secure;  the  poet  would  have  hur- 
ried past,  but  Kingsley,  laying  a  hand  upon  his  arm, 
said:  'Wait  a  moment  and  see  me  subdue  him!' 
Thereupon  he  walked  up  to  the  dog,  who,  erect  upon 
his  hind  feet  with  open  jaws  and  glaring  eyes,  was  the 


KINDNESS  TO  ANIMALS. 


233 


embodiment  of  animal  fury.  Kingsley  lifted  his  hand, 
and  quietly  said:  'You  have  made  a  mistake;  you 
must  go  back  to  your  kennel!'  The  dog  sank  down 
upon  his  fore  feet,  but  still  growled  angrily ;  the  canon 
repeated  his  words  in  a  firm  voice,  advancing  step  by 
step  as  the  dog  gave  way.  He  continued  speaking 
grave  reproof,  as  to  a  human  being,  until  he  had  forced 
the  mastiff  back  into  his  kennel,  where  the  latter 
silently,  and,  perhaps,  remorsefully,  lay  down.n 

Would  that  all  mothers  would  display  the  same 
wisdom  in  the  early  training  of  their  children  as  did 
the  mother  of  Theodore  Parker.  He  thus  speaks  of 
his  boyhood,  and  the  precious  lesson  of  mercy  that  was 
taught  him.  He  says:  "  I  saw  a  little  spotted  turtle 
sunning  himself  in  the  shallow  water.  I  lifted  the  stick 
in  my  hand  to  kill  the  harmless  reptile;  for  though  I 
had  never  killed  any  creature,  yet  I  had  seen  other 
boys,  out  of  sport,  destroy  birds,  squirrels,  and  the 
like,  and  I  had  a  disposition  to  follow  their  wicked 
example;  but  all  at  once  something  checked  my  little 
arm,  and  a  voice  within  me  said,  clear  and  loud,  1  It 
is  wrong.'  I  held  my  uplifted  stick  in  wonder  at  the 
new  emotion,  till  the  turtle  had  vanished  from  sight. 
I  hastened  home  and  told  the  tale  to  my  mother, 
and  asked  what  it  was  that  told  me  it  was  wrong. 
She  wiped  a  tear  from  her  eye  with  her  apron,  and 
taking  me  in  her  arms,  said:  i  Some  men  call  it  con- 
science, but  I  prefer  to  call  it  the  voice  of  God  in  the 
soul  of  man.    If  you  listen  and  obey,  it  will  speak 


234 


KINDNESS  TO  ANIMALS. 


clearer  and  clearer,  and  always  guide  you  right;  but 
if  you  turn  a  deaf  ear,  or  disobey,  then  it  will  fade  out, 
little  by  little,  and  leave  you  all  in  the  dark  without  a 
guide.  Your  life  depends,  my  boy,  on  heeding  that  lit- 
tle voice.'1  " 

What  an  example  is  this  for  those  careless  mothers 
who,,  without  intending  to  be  cruel,  see  their  children 
inflict  the  most  brutal  torments  on  dumb  animals, 
without  so  much  as  lifting  their  voice  in  reproof  or 
displeasure.  Think  you  that  it  is  by  chance  that  the 
bosoms  of  those  mothers  are  often  torn  with  anguish 
at  the  cruel  heartlessness  of  those  children  in  later 
years,  which  had  its  first  development  and  growth  in 
their  cruelty  to  animals? 

Read  this  graphic  scene  of  one  hundred  and  fifty 
years  ago,  drawn  by  the  gifted  pen  of  Eugene  Sue, 
and  appalling  as  it  is,  it  is  equaled  by  the  brutal  feroc- 
ity of  the  cruel  men  of  to-day.  He  writes:  "The 
winter  of  1732  was  very  cold.  The  pavements  became 
very  slippery  by  the  frost,  and  did  not  present  any 
hold  for  the  horses9  feet;  and  one  of  these  animals, 
harnessed  to  a  large  cart  heavily  laden  with  wood,  was 
utterly  unable  to  advance  a  step  forward,  while  the 
carter,  a  powerful  fellow,  was  belaboring  the  poor 
brute  with  his  heavy  whip,  striking  him  over  the  head 
with  relentless  ferocity.  Breathless.,  and  struggling 
violently,  the  poor  horse  was  so  exhausted  by  his  con- 
tinued  and  severe  efforts,  'that,  in  spite  of  the  cold,  he 
was  covered  with  sweat  and  foam.    Now,  throwing 


KINDNESS  TO  ANIMALS. 


235 


himself  into  his  collar  with  desperate  exertion,  he 
tugged  so  that  the  stones  beneath  his  feet  threw  out 
sparks  of  lire:  now,  far  from  being  discouraged,  he 
backed  a  few  paces  to  take  breath,  and  again  tried, 
but  in  vain,  to  draw  his  load.  Twice  did  he  nearly 
fall, — his  knees  touched  the  pavement;  the  carter  raised 
him  by  the  bit,  leaving  the  mouth  of  the  animal  raw 
and  bleeding.  A  third  time,  after  a  violent  effort,  he 
fell  on  his  knees,  one  leg  entangled  beneath  him;  he 
could  not  recover  himself,  but  fell  on  his  side,  where 
he  lay  trembling,  bathed  in  sweat,  and  his  eves  fixed 
on  his  brutal  owner.  The  rage  of  his  master  then 
knew  no  bounds ;  and  after  breaking  his  whip  over  the 
head  of  the  horse,  who,  kept  down  by  the  shafts,  lay 
groaning  on  the  stones,  he  began  kicking  the  unfortu- 
nate animal  on  the  nostrils.  The  spectators  of  this 
cruel  sight  looked  on  with  apathy.  The  fellow,  find- 
ing the  horse  did  not  move,  took  a  bundle  of  straw, 
twisted  it  in  the  form  of  a  torch,  and,  taking  a  match 
from  his  pocket,  said,  'Til  roast  him;  pYaps  that'll 
make  him  get  up.'  At  this  moment  a  Quaker  stopped, 
and  pushed  his  way  among  the  crowd.  When  he  saw 
the  carter  go  toward  the  fallen  horse,  with  the  inten- 
tion of  applying  the  blazing  straw  to  his  body,  a  shud- 
der ran  through  his  frame,  and  his  countenance 
expressed  the  utmost  compassion.  Unable  for  a 
moment  to  endure  tfiis  scene,  the  Quaker  approached 
the  carter  and  took  him  by  the  arm,  who  turned  with 
a  menacing  look  as  he  shook  the  torch.    1  Friend,' 


236 


KINDNESS  TO  ANIMALS. 


said  the  Quaker,  in  a  calm  tone,  showing  the  carter 
fifteen  louts  (Tor,  which  he  held  in  his  hand,  '  Wilt  thou 
sell  me  thy  horse  for  this  gold  ?  9  '  What  do  ye  say  ?  ' 
inquired  the  carter;  '  will  ye  give  me  that  sum  for  the 
brute?  7  and  stamped  out  the  light  beneath  his  feet. 
1  Fifteen  louis?  said  the  Quaker.  4  But  why  should  ye 
buy  the  horse?  '  1  That  is  nothing  to  thee.  If  thou 
sellest  thy  horse,  thee  must  unload  thy  cart,  unharness 
the  horse  and  assist  him  to  rise.'  '  Is  the  gold  good?  ' 
'  Take  it  to  the  nearest  shop  and  inquire.''  The  carter 
soon  returned,  saying, '  It  is  a  bargain.'  '  Then  unshackle 
the  poor  horse,  for  he  is  crushed  by  the  weight  of  his  bur- 
den.' The  by-standers  lent  their  aid  to  free  the  horse. 
The  poor  animal  was  bleeding  in  many  places;  and, 
such  was  his  terror  of  the  carter,  that  he  trembled  at  his 
approach.  1  But  I  cannot  tell  why  you  bought  the  old 
brute,  said  the  carter.  ^  I  can  tell  thee /  it  was  to  free 
him  from  thy  cruelty  that  I  bought  himj  replied 
the  Quaker." 

Blessings  on  the  noble  souls  who,  like  the  Quaker, 
are  ready  with  their  voices,  their  sympathy  and  their 
purses,  to  take  the  part  of  those  unhappy  creatures 
who  cannot  plead  for  themselves.  Prof.  David  Swing 
uttered  these  brave  words:  "It  ill  becomes  us  to 
inflict  tortures  upon  the  helpless  man  or  the  helpless 
brute.  We  can  not  do  this  and  still  claim  any  of  the 
honors  of  true  manhood.  Let  us  see  our  world  in  ever 
newer  and  fairer  colors.  Why  are  we  here  unless  we 
can  make  our  race  better  by  our  sojourn?    Let  us 


KINDNESS  TO  ANIMALS. 


237 


break  up  these  hiding-places  of  cruelty  with  which 
our  earth  abounds.  Let  us,  if  possible,  unite  love  and 
mercy  in  the  streets  where  our  dumb  brutes  toil;  let 
us  teach  better  the  man  whose  ear  can  draw  music 
from  a  whip;  let  us  write  mercy  in  the  woods  where 
the  wild  deer  runs,  mercy  in  the  air  where  our  birds 
fly,  and  along  the  city  streets,  where  the  tempter  has 
held  a  sway  too  terrible  and  too  long.  When  a  cruel 
driver  lashes  his  horse,  it  is  not  a  mere  incident  of  the 
hour  not  worthy  of  your  notice ;  it  is  a  link  in  a  chain 
which  binds  you  and  me  to  all  the  monsters  of  the 
black  past,  to  the  Romans  who  exposed  their  infants 
to  the  beasts  of  the  woods,  to  those  tribes  in  the  desert 
which  cut  a  steak  from  an  ox  without  killing  the  ox, 
and  if  we  do  not  break  this  chain  by  action  and  pro- 
test it  will  bind  us  forever  to  this  long  ancestry  of 
shocking  deeds.  It  is  high  time  for  us  to  ponder  upon 
these  things,  and  to  wash  our  hands  from  this  form  of 
guilt,  and  from  all  indifference  to  this  form  of  human 
error  and  vice." 

That  noble  apostle  of  the  gospel  of  mercy,  George 
T.  Angell,  who  has  devoted  his  life  to  this  noble  work, 
thus  calls  for  the  aid  and  co-operation  of  all  those  who 
have  a  spark  of  mercy  in  their  natures:  u  When  you 
see  boys  robbing  birds'  nests  or  stoning  birds,  or  squir- 
rels, or  other  harmless  animals,  or  shooting  them,  or 
catching,  destroying  or  tormenting  them,  tell  such 
boys  that  all  these  have  their  mates  and  companions 
just  as  we  have,  and  feel  pain  as  we  do,  and  are  per- 


238  KINDNESS  TO  ANIMALS. 

haps  as  fond  of  life  and  liberty  as  we  are,  and  were  all 
created  and  put  here  for  useful  purposes ;  and  ask  them 
what  fun  there  can  be  in  killing  or  wounding  them  or 
making  them  suffer.  Ask  them  whether  it  is  brave 
to  torment  the  weak;  whether  it  would  not  be  nobler 
and  more  honorable  to  protect,  and  more  pleasing  to 
our  Father  in  Heaven,  who  created  and  cares  for  them 
all?  And  the  larger  animals,  you  will  have  many 
chances  of  doing  them  good.  Feed  them;  give  them 
water;  speak  kindly  to  them;  try  to  make  them  happy, 
and  see  how  grateful  they  will  be,  and  how  much  they 
will  love  you  for  it,  and  how  happy  it  will make  you  to 
see  them  happy.  My  young  friends,  every  kind  act 
you  can  do  for  the  weak  and  defenceless,  and  every 
kind  word  you  say  to  them,  will  make  you  happier, 
nobler,  and  better;  all  good  people  will  love  you  and 
respect  you  the  more  for  it,  and  as  your  bodies  grow, 
your  hearts  will  grow  larger  and  richer,  to  bless  the 
world." 

Such  words  are  worthy  to  be  treasured  up  in  every 
heart,  and  in  every  home. 


©he  Secret  op  a  P?appy  Lcipb. 


^  !><HV^"'  ^s'^r^r^'  t^ie  venera^le  President  of  L  nion 
/3  -KJ^  College,  once  took  a  newly  married  pair 
^^^^  aside  and  said;  "I  want  to  give  you  this 
advice,  my  children, — don't  try  to  be  happy. 
Happiness  is  a  shy  nymph,  and  if  you  chase  her  you 
will  never  catch  her.  But  just  go  on  quietly,  and  do 
your  duty,  and  she  will  come  to  you.'1  These  few 
plain  words  contain  more  real  wisdom  than  years  of 
moralizings,  or  whole  volumes  of  metaphysical  vagar- 
ies. It  is  a  great  truth,  often  forgotten,  and  still 
oftener  unheeded,  that  those  who  make  happiness  a 
pursuit,  generally  have  a  fruitless  chase. 

Madame  Recamier,  one  of  the  most  fascinating 
queens  of  French  society,  with  every  surrounding 
seemingly  favorable  to  the  highest  earthly  happiness, 
from  the  calm,  still  depths  of  her  heart  wrote  to  her 
niece:  "I  am  herein  the  center  of  fetes,  princesses, 
illuminations,  spectacles.  Two  of  my  windows  face 
the  ballroom,  the  other  two  the  theater.  Amidst  this 
clatter  I  am  in  perfect  solitude.  I  sit  and  muse  on 
the  shore  of  the  "ocean.  I  go  over  all  the  sad  and 
joyous  circumstances  of  my  life.  I  hope  that  you  will 
lie  happier  than  I  have  been.11 

^39 


240  THE  SECRET  OF  A  HAPPY  LIFE. 

Lord  Chesterfield,  whose  courtly  manners  and  varied 
accomplishments  made  him  a  particular  favorite  in  the 
highest  society  of  his  day,  after  a  life  of  pleasure  thus 
sums  up  the  results:  u  I  have  run  the  silly  rounds  of 
pleasure,  and  have  done  with  them  all  I  have  en 
joyed  all  the  pleasures  of  the  world;  T  appraise  them 
at  their  real  worth,  which  is,  in  truth,  very  low.  Those 
who  have  only  seen  their  outsides,  always  overrate 
them;  but  I  have  been  behind  the  scenes.  When  I 
reflect  on  what  I  have  seen,  what  I  have  heard,  and 
what  I  have  done,  I  can  hardly  persuade  myself  that 
all  that  frivolous  hurry  and  bustle  of  pleasure  in  the 
world  had  any  reality;  but  I  look  upon  all  that  is  past 
as  one  of  those  romantic  dreams  which  opium  com 
monly  occasions:  and  I  do  by  no  means  desire  to  re- 
peat the  nauseous  dose.1"' 

A  man  in  great  depression  of  spirits  once  consulted 
a  London  physician  as  to  how  he  could  regain  his 
health  and  cheerfulness.  Matthews,  the  noted  come- 
dian, was  then  convulsing  great  crowds  by  his  wit  and 
drollery,  and  the  physician  advised  his  melancholy  pa 
tient  to  go  to  hear  him.  "  Ah,"  said  the  gloomy 
man,  "  I  am  Matthews."  And  so,  while  he  was  amus- 
ing thousands  by  his  apparent  gayety  and  overflow  of 
spirits,  his  own  heart  was  suffering  from  the  canker  of 
despair. 

After  the  death  of  a  powerful  caliph  of  a  Spanish 
province,  a  paper  in  his  handwriting  was  found,  on 
which  were  these  words:    "  Fifty  years  have  elapsed 


THE  SECRET  OF  A   HAPPY  LIFE. 


241 


since  I  became  caliph.  I  have  possessed  riches,  hon- 
ors, pleasures,  friends. — in  short,  everything  that  man 
can  desire  in  this  world.  I  have  reckoned  up  the  days 
in  which  I  could  say  I  was  really  happy,  and  they 
amount  to  fourteen/ 1 

Madame  De  Pompadour,  who  possessed  such  bound- 
less influence  over  the  king  of  France,  and  for  a  time 
swayed  the  destinies  of  that  country,  thus  discloses 
her  misery  even  in  the  plenitude  of  her  power,  and  at 
the  full  height  of  her  dazzling  career:  "  What  a  situ- 
ation  is  that  of  the  great !  They  only  live  in  the  fu- 
ture, and  are  only  happy  in  hope.  There  is  no  peace 
in  ambition;  it  is  always  gloomy,  and  often  unreason- 
ably so.    The  kindness  of  the  king,  the  regards  of  the 

J  O  7  O 

courtiers,  the  attachment  of  my  domestics,  and  the 
fidelity  of  a  large  number  of  friends,  make  me  happy 
no  longer/1  Then,  after  stating  that  she  is  weary 
of,  and  cannot  endure,  her  magnificent  furniture  and 
residences,  she  adds:  "  In  a  word,  I  do  not  live;  I  am 
dead  before  my  time.  I  have  no  interest  in  the  world. 
Every  thing  conspires  to  embitter  my  life."  The  re- 
morse of  an  outraged  conscience  could  not  be  assuaged 
by  any  display  of  worldly  splendor. 

On  the  monument  of  a  once  powerful  pope  is  en- 
graved by  his  order,  these  words:  "  Here  lies  Adrian 
VI. 7  who  was  never  so  unhappy  in  any  period  of  his 
life  as  that  in  which  he  was  a  prince/1 

Edmund  Burke,  after  attaining  the  most  exalted 
position  as  an  orator  and  statesman,  said  that  he  would 


242 


THE  SECRET  OF  A  HAPPY  LIFE. 


not  give  one  peck  of  refuse  wheat  for  all  that  is  called 
fame  in  this  world.  Byron,  after  making  the  whole 
earth  ring  with  the  music  of  his  measures,  confessed 
that  his  life  had  been  passed  in  wretchedness,  and  that 
he  longed  to  rush  into  the  thickest  of  the  battle,  that 
he  might  end  his  miserable  existence  by  a  sudden 
death.  Rothschild  and  Girard,  both  possessing  mil- 
lions, were  wretched  men,  living  and  toiling  like  gal- 
ley-slaves,  and  knew  nothing  of  that  happiness  which, 
like  the  sunshine,  brightens  and  cheers  everything. 

Some  one  has  happily  defined  happiness  as  a  the  re- 
sult of  harmonious  powers,  steadily  bent  on  pursuits 
that  seek  a  worthy  end.  It  is  not  the  lazy  man's 
dower,  nor  sensualists'  privilege.  It  is  reserved  for 
the  worker,  and  can  never  be  grasped  and  held  save 
by  true  manhood  and  womanhood.'" 

A  great  deal  of  the  unhappiness  in  the  world  is 
caused  by  want  of  proper  occupation.  The  mind  is 
incessantly  active,  and  if  not  occupied  with  something 
more  worthy  it  will  prey  upon  itself.  It  is  one  of  the 
greatest  misfortunes  in  life  to  be  without  a  purpose; 
to  drift  hither  and  thither,  at  the  mercy  of  every  whim 
or  impulse. 

How  many  there  are,  like  a  certain  wealthy  French 
gentleman  of  taste  and  culture,  who  had  read  much 
and  traveled  much,  but,  having  no  high  aim  in  life, 
became  surfeited  with  worldly  pleasure,  and  grew 
weary  of  existence.  He  said:  "  I  am  at  a  loss  what  to 
do.    I  know  not  where  to  go  or  what  to  see  that  I  am 


THE  SECRET  OF  A  HAPPY  LIFE. 


243 


not  already  acquainted  with.  There  is  nothing  new 
to  sharpen  my  curiosity,  or  stimulate  me  to  exertion. 
I  am  sated.  Life  to  me  has  exhausted  its  charms. 
The  world  has  no  new  face  to  me,  nor  can  it  open  any 
new  prospect  to  my  view." 

A  noble  purpose  is  the  cure  for  such  disorders  of 
the  mind,  and  no  better  advice  could  be  given  than 
that  which  the  poet  Rogers  gave  to  Lady  Holland, 
whose  life  was  almost  intolerable  from  ennui:  "  Try  to 
do  a  little  good." 

Sir  William  Jones,  himself  a  prodigy  of  industry,  in 
speaking  of  the  necessity  of  labor,  said:  "  I  apprehend 
there  is  not  a  more  miserable,  as  well  as  more  worth- 
less being  than  a  young  man  of  fortune,  who  has 
nothing  to  do  but  to  find  some  new  way  of  doing 
nothing." 

Many  who  have  gained  distinction  have  declared 
that  the  happiest  period  of  their  lives  was  when  they 
were  struggling  with  poverty,  and  working  with  all 
their  might  to  raise  themselves  above  it. 

William  Chambers,  the  famous  publisher,  of  Edin- 
burgh, when  speaking  of  the  labor  of  his  early  days, 
says:  "  I  look  back  to  those  times  with  great  pleasure, 
and  I  am  almost  sorry  that  I  have  not  to  go  through 
the  same  experience  again;  for  I  reaped  more  pleasure 
when  I  had  not  a  sixpence  in  my  pocket,  studying  in 
a  garret  in  Edinburgh,  than  I  now  find  when  sitting 
amid  all  the  elegancies  and  comforts  of  a  parlor.11 

But  happiness  demands  not  only  that  our  powers 


244 


THE  SECRET  OF  A  HAPPY  LIFE. 


shall  be  worthily  employed,  but  that  we  shall  be  actu- 
ated by  a  generous  and  unselfish  spirit.  There  is 
nothing  so  bracing  as  to  live  outside  of  one's  self;  to  be 
in  some  way  the  means  of  making  brighter  and  happier 
the  lives  of  others.  We  know  little  of  true  enjoyment 
unless  we  have  spoken  kind  words  of  encouragement 
to  those  in  distress,  or  lent  a  helping  hand  in  time  of 
trouble. 

A  gentleman  was  once  asked:  "What  action  gave 
you  the  greatest  pleasure  in  life P^*  He  replied:  "  When 
I  stopped  the  sale  of  a  poor  widow's  furniture,  by  pay- 
ing a  small  sum  due  by  her  for  rent,  and  received  her 

blessing" 

Happiness  may  be  found  in  the  line  of  duty,  no  mat- 
ter where  the  way  leads. 

Many  have  been  the  attempts  to  correctly  define 
happiness.  Varrow  made  note  of  two  hundred  and 
eighty  different  opinions,  but  the  secret  is  one  of  the 
heart,  and  not  of  the  intellect.  A  clear  conscience,  a 
kind  heart,  and  a  worthy  aim,  will  do  much  toward 
making  life  a  perpetual  feast  of  joy ;  but  this  feast  will 
be  made  up  of  a  succession  of  small  pleasures,  which 
flow  from  the  round  of  our  daily  duties  as  sparkling 
ripples  from  a  fountain. 

"  Happiness,"  says  a  writer,  "  is  a  mosaic,  composed 
of  many  smaller  stones.  Each,  taken  apart  and  viewed 
singly,  may  be  of  little  value;  but  when  all  are  grouped 
together,  and  judiciously  combined  and  set,  they  form 
a  pleasing  and  graceful  whole, — a  costly  jewel." 


THE  SECRET  OF  A  HAPPY  LIFE. 


245 


The  kind  words  we  speak  will  be  echoed  back  to  us 
from  the  lips  of  others,  and  the  good  that  we  do  will 
be  as  seed  sown  in  good  ground,  bringing  forth  an 
hundred  fold. 

"  An  Italian  bishop,  who  had  struggled  through 
many  difficulties,  was  asked  the  secret  of  his  always 
being  so  happy.  He  replied :  1  In  whatever  state  I 
am.  I  first  of  all  look  up  to  heaven,  and  remember  that 
my  great  business  is  to  get  there.  I  then  look  down 
upon  the  earth,  and  call  to  mind  how  small  a  space  I 
shall  soon  fill  in  it.  I  then  look  abroad  in  the  world, 
and  see  what  multitudes  are  in  all  respects  less  happy 
than  myself.  And  then  I  learn  where  true  happiness 
is  placed,  where  all  my  cares  must  end,  and  how  little 
reason  I  ever  have  to  murmur  or  to  be  otherwise  than 
thankful.1  " 

True  happiness,  then,  which  defies  all  change  of  time 
and  circumstances,  and  is  perfect  and  unalloyed,  can 
be  found  only  in  that  source  of  all  goodness  —  God 
himself. 


Lioyb  oh  the  Beautiful. 


HE  world  is  full  of  beauty.  It  is  everywhere 
lavished  without  stint.  In  the  shifting  pano- 
rama of  cloud-land;  in  gorgeous  sunsets;  in 
the  bewildering  loveliness  of  flower-strewn 


fields;  in  sparkling  cascade;  in  silvery  stream;  in 
majestic  ocean,  and  towering  mountains, —  all  above, 
around  and  beneath  us,  the  earth,  and  air,  and  sea  are 
rilled  with  ten  thousand  forms  of  beauty.  In  response 
to  them  the  love  of  beauty  is  implanted  in  our  nature, 
to  awaken  our  finer  feelings,  and  to  raise  our  minds  to 
exalted  heights  of  rapture  and  adoration.  What  a 
wondrously  rare  world  is  this  to  one  who  sees  it  aright; 
what  ceaseless  pleasure  is  afforded  in  beholding  its  per- 
petual succession  of  shifting  scenes.  Said  a  blind  girl, 
who  suddenly  received  her  sight,  and  saw  for  the  first 
time  the  outer  world,  "  Why  did  you  not  tell  me  before 
how  beautiful  the  sky,  and  trees,  and  grass,  and  flowers 
were?  "  and  she  trembled  in  a  transport  of  delight  as  the 
sight  surpassed  all  the  impressions  that  language  had 
conveyed  to  her.  There  are  multitudes  of  people  who 
have  no  more  conception  of  the  beauty  about  them, 
than  had  this  blind  girl  with  her  darkened  vision;  and  ^ 
they  plod  on  through  life,  missing  the  exquisite  delight 
which  might  be  theirs,  if  the  love  of  the  beautiful  were 
awakened  and  developed  in  them. 


LOVE  OF  THE  BEAUTIFUL. 


247 


Some  one  has  said,  u  Place  a  young  girl  under  the 
care  of  a  kindhearted,  graceful  woman,  and  she,  uncon- 
sciously to  herself,  grows  into  a  graceful  lady.  Teach 
your  children  to  love  the  beautiful.  If  you  are  able, 
give  them  a  corner  in  the  garden  for  flowers  ;  allow 
them  to  have  their  favorite  trees;  teach  them  to 
wander  in  the  prettiest  woodlets;  show  them  where 
they  can  best  view  the  sunset;  rouse  them  in  the 
morning  to  view  the  beautiful  sunrise."  We  are  prone 
to  make  our  lives  too  commonplace  and' monotonous, 
and  to  plod  in  a  matter-of-fact  way,  forgetting  that 
there  is  anything  higher  than  our  every  day  tasks.  In 
this  condition  we  only  half  live;  our  eyes  are  not  lifted 
from  the  dead  level  of  mere  existence,  and  our  hearts 
are  strangers  to  the  refined  enjoyments  which  might 
be  ours. 

O,  cherish  a  love  for  the  beautiful,  for  often  our 
spirits  are  so  vexed  with  the  cares  and  perplexities  of 
life,  that  we  need  something  to  raise  our  minds  above 
them,  and  cause  us  to  forget  ourselves. 

"  God  might  have  made  the  earth  bring  forth 

Enough  for  great  and  small; 
The  oak  tree  and  the  cedar  tree 

Without  a  flower  at  all. 

Then  wherefore,  wherefore  were  they  made, 

All  decked  in  rainbow  light, 
All  fashioned  with  supremest  grace, 

Up-springing  day  and  night? 

To  comfort  man, — to  whisper  hope, 

Whene'er  his  faith  is  dim 
For  whoso  careth  for  the  flowers 

Will  much  more  care  for  him." 


F?ow  mo  be  Beautiful. 


ROM  time  immemorial,  in  all  climes  and 
among  all  peoples,  there  have  been  arts  of 


beauty.    The  wish  to  look  well  is  an  inher- 
ent part  of  our  nature,  and,  confined  within  due  limits, 


which  is  too  much  overlooked  because  it  is  so  easy 
and  practical  to  obtain;  but  it  will  survive  all  the 
fountains  of  youth,  the  charms,  lotions  and  other  nos- 
trums which  have  ever  been  invented  to  delude  and 
disappoint  the  multitudes  who  sought  them.  This 
art  does  not  consist  of  mysterious  compounds  or  arti- 
ficial disguises,  but  is  based  on  a  few  simple,  natural 
laws  of  life.  One  of  the  conditions  of  beauty  is  good 
health.  There  is  something  in  the  clear,  ruddy  com- 
plexion, the  bright  eye,  the  active  movements  and  the 
flow  of  spirits  which  accompanies  good  health,  which 
can  never  be  obtained  by  recourse  to  artificial  means. 

A  writer,  in  commenting  on  Bayard  Taylor's  de- 
scription of  the  beauty  of  Polish  women,  truly  says  that 
there  can  be  no  true  beauty  without  health,  and  there 
can  be  no  permanent  health  in  the  future  man  or 
woman  unless  the  child  is  properly  cared  for;  that  in 
Poland  girls  do  not  jump  from  infancy  to  young  lady- 


it  is  a  laudable  desire.    There  is  an  art  of  beauty 


248 


HOW  TO  BE  BEAUTIFUL. 


249 


hood,  but  a  period  of  childhood  is  recognized.  They 
are  not  sent  from  the  cradle  to  the  parlor  to  sit  still 
and  look  pretty  ;  but  during  childhood,  which  extends 
through  a  period  of  several  years,  they  are  plainly  and 
loosely  dressed,  allowed  to  run,  romp  and  play  in  the 
open  air,  and  to  take  in  sunshine  as  do  the  flowers. 
They  are  not  rendered  delicate  and  dyspeptic  by  a 
diet  of  candies  and  sweetmeats,  as  are  too  many 
American  children.  Simple  food,  free  and  varied 
exercise,  abundant  sunshine  and  sleep  during  the 
whole  period  of  childhood,  lay  the  foundation  for 
beauty  in  later  life.  A  medical  authority,  speaking 
of  the  early  loss  of  beauty  among  American  women, 
attributes  it  to  the  fact  that  they  are  shut  up  in  houses 
nine-tenths  of  their  time,  with  either  no  exercise,  or  that 
which  is  of  irksome  sameness,  and,  as  a  consequence, 
they  become  unnaturally  pale  and  delicate,  their  blood 
poorly  organized  and  watery,  their  muscles  weak  and 
flaccid,  and  the  force  and  functions  of  their  body  run 
low  in  the  scale  of  life.  English  ladies  of  rank,  who 
are  celebrated  for  retaining  their  beauty  to  old  age, 
think  nothing  of  a  walk  of  half  a  dozen  miles,  which 
our  ladies  would  think  impossible. 

Another  element  of  beauty  is  bodily  carriage.  Many 
a  fine  face  is  marred  by  a  stooping  figure  and  awk- 
ward gait.  But  the  highest  quality  of  beauty  is  not 
merely  in  the  regularity  of  features,  the  fairness  of 
complexion,  the  gracefulness  of  movement,  or  the  vigor 
ous  condition  of  the  body,  but  in  what  is  called  the 


250  HOW  TO  BE  BEAUTIFUL. 

"  expression, " — the  soul  which  looks  out  from  this 
mortal  tenement. 

Some  one  has  said  that  "  there  is  nothing  that  so 
refines  the  face  and  mien  as  great  thoughts,"  and  who 
has  not  seen  a  positively  homely  face  which  has  been 
lighted  up  and  glorified  by  the  nobility  of  soul  which 
illumined  it,  until  it  became  singularly  attractive. 

A  learned  professor,  who  was  also  an  acute  observer, 
said:  "  I  have  come  to  the  conclusion,  that  if  man,  or 
woman  either,  wishes  to  realize  the  full  power  of  per- 
sonal beauty,  it  must  be  by  cherishing  noble  hopes  and 
purposes;  by  having  something  to  do  and  something 
to  live  for  which  is  worthy  of  humanity,  and  which,  by 
expanding  the  capacities  of  the  soul,  gives  expression 
and  symmetry  to  the  body  which  contains  it."  One 
of  the  most  gifted  and  powerful  minds  that  this  century 
has  produced,  has  forcefully  elaborated  this  thought  by 
saying  that  he  holds  that  the  mind  is  continually  im- 
pressing itself  on  the  body,  and  that  gesture  and  atti- 
tude, and  a  thousand  physical  appearances,  are  the  re- 
sult of  mental  processes4  within.  The  words  used,  the 
tones  of  the  voice,  the  general  expression  of  the  face, 
the  carriage  and  manners,  are  unquestionably  made 
beautiful  by  the  predominant  influence  in  any  one  of 
noble  thoughts,  benevolent  acts  and  a  pure  affection. 

A  lady  was  wondering  why  a  friend  had  lost  his 
beauty,  and  the  answer  was:  "  O,  'tis  because  he  never 
did  anything.  He  never  worked,  thought  or  suffered. 
You  must  have  the  mind  chiseling  away  at  the  features 


HOW  TO  BE  BEAUTIFUL. 


251 


if  you  want  handsome  middle-aged  men.1"  The  lady 
who  heard  the  remark  said,  that  since  hearing  it  she 
had  been  watching  to  see  if  it  were  generally  true,  and 
she  found  it  was,  and  further  observed,  "  A  handsome 
man  who  does  nothing  but  eat  and  drink,  grows  flab- 
by, and  the  fine  lines  of  his  features  are  lost;  but  the 
hard  thinker  has  an  admirable  sculptor  at  work  keep 
ing  them  in  repair,  and  constantly  going  over  his  face 
to  improve  the  original  design,"  and  the  observation 
applies  as  well  to  women  as  to  men. 

That  great  educator  and  noble  character,  Horace 
Mann,  gave  utterance  to  the  following  words  on  this 
subject:  "  Where  minds  live  in  the  region  of  pure 
thoughts  and  happy  emotions,  the  felicities  and 
sanctities  of  the  inner  temple  shine  out  through  the 
mortal  tenement,  and  play  over  it  like  lambent  flame. 
The  incense  makes  the  whole  altar  sweet;  and  we  can 
understand  what  the  poet  means  when  he  says  that 

"  Beauty  born  of  murmuring  sound 
Shall  pass  into  her  face." 

On  the  other  hand,  no  man  can  live  a  gormandizing, 
sordid  or  licentious  life,  and  still  wear  a  countenance 
hallowed  and  sanctified  with  a  halo  of  peace  and  joy.1' 
Charles  Kingsley,  who  had  an  extraordinary  attach- 
ment for  children,  uttered  this  thought,  which  should  be 
remembered  by  every  parent  and  teacher:  u  Children 
can  hardly  be  brought  up  among  good  works  of  art,  or,  I 
believe,  among  any  fair  sights  and  sounds,  without  the 
expression  of  their  faces  being  softened  and  ennobled," 


252 


HOW  TO  BE  BEAUTIFUL. 


and  the  same  principle  applies  to  children  of  a  larger 
growth.  We  never  outgrow  the  influence  of  our  sur- 
roundings. 

In  infancy  the  child?s  face  is  like  a  fair  unwritten 
page;  but  if  brought  up  in  squalor,  seeing  only  unlovely 
sights,  and  its  violent  passion  left  to  run  riot  without 
restraint,  it  soon  becomes  seared  with  evil,  and  covered 
with  a  moral  repulsiveness  which  stamps  itself  upon 
the  features;  while  those  who  are  surrounded  by  pleas- 
ant and  beautiful  objects,  who  breathe  an  atmosphere 
of  love,  and  whose  passions  are  restrained  and  sub- 
dued, grow  up  with  a  pure  and  refined  expression 
which  becomes  more  and  more  strongly  marked  so 
long  as  they  are  subject  to  the  same  gracious  influ- 
ences. The  secret,  then,  of  acquiring  beauty  consists 
in  the  judicious  care  of  the  body,  the  occupation  of  the 
mind  by  pure  and  lofty  thoughts,  and  a  spirit  of  love 
and  gentleness,  which  is  the  crowning  glory  of  all. 
When  a  fine  poem  is  read,  a  part  of  its  beauty  and 
sublimity  is  transferred  to  the  face  of  the  reader. 
When  a  noble  act  is  done,  the  moral  grandeur  of  it  is 
reflected  in  part  in  the  countenance  of  him  who  per- 
forms it,  and  thus  the  joyous  forces  of  life,  the  harmo- 
nious actions  of  the  intellectual  powers,  and  the  lofty 
conceptions  of  the  soul,  are  so  many  sculptors  at  work 
on  the  features, —  refining  and  perfecting  them  as  the 
years  roll  on,  until  they  become  beautiful  as  the  soul 
within. 


CQannbi^s  and  Di^bss. 


HILE  it  is  true,  as  Thackeray  observed, 
that  "  Nature  has  written  a  letter  of  credit 
upon  some  men's  faces  which  is  honored 
almost  wherever  presented,"  yet  it  is  also 
true  that  "  manners  make  the  man,"  and  are  to  a  cer- 
tain degree  an  index  of  his  character.  It  cannot  be 
said  that  fine  manners  always  indicate  high  moral 
qualities,  for  many  a  knave  has  a  captivating  address, 
and  can  readily  insinuate  himself  into  the  good  opinion 
of  the  unwary,  while  many  a  man  of  worth  has  such  a 
forbidding  aspect,  that  he  at  first  repels  all  whom  he 
approaches.  But  because  good  manners  are  some- 
times  acquired  and  perverted  by  the  evil  minded,  is  no 
reason  why  the  worthy  should  not  possess  all  the 
charms  and  advantages  which  are  derived  from  them. 
In  fact,  it  is  a  duty  to  make  ourselves  pleasing  to 
others,  and  extend  our  influence  by  this  means  as  far 
as  possible. 

Addison  said,  "that  the  true  art  of  being  agreeable 
is  to  appear  well  pleased  with  all  the  company,  and 
rather  to  seem  well  entertained  with  them  than  to  bring 
entertainment  to  them.  A  man  thus  disposed  may 
not  have  much  learning,  nor  any  wit;  but  if  he  has 
common  sense,  and  something  friendly  in  his  behavior, 
it  conciliates  men's  minds  more  than  the  brightest 

253 


254 


MANNERS  AND  DRESS. 


parts  without  this  disposition.  It  is  true,  indeed,  that 
a  man  should  not  flatter  and  dissemble  in  company; 
but  a  man  may  be  very  agreeable,  strictly  consistent 
with  truth  and  sincerity,  by  a  prudent  silence  where 
he  cannot  concur,  and  a  pleasing  assent  where  he  can." 

Politeness  has  been  called  the  oil  which  makes  the 
wheels  of  society  run  smoothly;  and  certainly  it  does 
greatly  lessen  the  friction  of  daily  contact  with  each 
other.  Keen  perceptions,  a  wise  discernment,  and  a 
natural  power  of  imitation,  with  much  contact  with  the 
world,  are  the  essential  requirements  of  polished  manners. 

It  has  been  said,  "  that  the  best  bred  man  is  he  who 
is  possessed  of  dignified  ease,  to  reconcile  him  to  all 
situations  and  society.''  This  is  not  attained  so  much 
from  a  knowledge  of  the  rules  of  etiquette,  as  by  an 
innate  nobility  of  character,  a  greatness  of  soul,  and 
proper  self  respect.  True  politeness  is  never  the  pro- 
duct merely  of  punctilious  conformity  to  established 
usages,  although  it  is  necessary  to  have  a  knowledge 
of  these,  but  rather  of  an  overflowing  kindness  of 
heart,  a  generosity  of  spirit,  and  a  sacred  regard  for 
the  golden  rule.  Indeed,  the  grand  foundation  on 
which  the  etiquette  of  all  civilized  countries  is  based, 
is  that  of  doing  to  others  as  you  would  they  should  do 
unto  you,  and  in  preferring  others  to  yourself.  If  such 
be  the  rule  of  conduct,  it  will  be  exhibited  in  a  kindly 
spirit  toward  others,  and  a  disposition  to  please  them 
by  doing  and  saying  such  things  as  will  afford  pleasure, 
and  by  omitting  to  do  anything  which  would  be  dis- 


MANNERS  AND  DRESS. 


255 


tasteful.  Such  a  person  would  not  indulge  in  sarcastic 
remarks,  nor  faultfinding,  nor  speaking  of  one's  self  or 
friends  in  an  egotistical  manner,  nor  would  he  broach 
any  subject  that  might  occasion  painful  reflections  to 
any  present,  nor  deal  in  profuse,  unmeaning  flattery, — 
for  all  these  are  violations  of  the  golden  rule.  A  per- 
son actuated  by  this  sublime  principle  of  conduct,  with 
proper  self  respect,  and  with  a  well-informed  and  cul- 
tivated mind,  need  not  hesitate  to  enter  any  company, 
for  these  qualities  will  make  his  company  delightful 
and  acceptable,  even  though  he  should  not  be  familiar 
with  all  the  well-turned  phrases  and  fulsome  compli- 
ments of  so-called  polite  society. 

As  we  unconsciously  judge  a  persons  character  and 
disposition  by  his  manners,  so,  also,  we  do  by  his  dress. 

Some  one  has  observed  on  £his  subject,  that  a  care- 
less slovenliness  in  regard  to  personal  appearance  is  a 
threefold  sin, — against  ourselves,  as  it  detracts  its  proper 
portion  of  the  affection  and  esteem  which  we  might 
otherwise  receive, — against  others,  to  whom  we  do 
not  afford  all  the  pleasure  of  which  we  are  capable; 
and  against  God,  who  has  formed  the  dwelling  and 
given  it  to  our  keeping  to  be  honored  and  cherished. 

Looking  at  the  subject  from  this  broad  view,  it  be- 
comes a  very  important  one,  and  deserving  of  its  proper 
share  of  our  attention.  An  incident  is  related  of  a 
lady,  who  on  being  asked  what  opinion  she  formed 
from  the  conversation  of  a  young  gentleman  whom 
she  had  met,  replied:    "Do  not  ask  me!   I  can  re 


2$6 


MANNERS  AND  DRESS. 


member  nothing  of  it  all  but  a  horrible,  great  red 
coral  ball  in  his  cravat,  which  rolled  against  all  my 
ideas,  and  knocked  them  down  like  ninepins. " 

This  gives  point  to  the  remark  which  a  celebrated 
English  divine  once  made  to  a  lady:  ''Madam,  so 
dress  and  so  conduct  yourself,  that  persons  who  have 
been  in  your  company  shall  not  recollect  what  you 
had  on." 

To  be  well  dressed  does  not  necessarily  mean  that 
your  apparel  should  be  a  copy  of  the  latest  whim  of 
fashion,  or  made  of  the  costliest  material.  That  per- 
son is  well  dressed  whose  attire  shows  a  suitableness 
to  circumstances  of  time  and  place,  and  the  position 
and  means  of  the  wearer.  Neglect  and  inattention  to 
the  small  externals  of  dress  should  be  carefully  guarded 
against. 

Another  important  matter  in  regard  to  dress  is  that  it 
should  be  arranged  with  a  view  to  comfort  and  health. 
The  daughters  of  European  aristocracy  set  us  a  com- 
mendable example  in  this  respect,  for  in  their  out-door 
exercise,  which  they  take  freely,  their  attire  is  notice- 
able for  its  simplicity,  suitableness  and  air  of  comfort. 

How  foolish  and  shortsighted  are  those  votaries  of 
fashion,  who  are  willing  to  sacrifice  health,  and  even 
shorten  life  itself,  in  obeying  her  imperious  dictates. 

Let  your  politeness  be  genuine,  your  manners  such 
as  will  evince  true  courtesy  and  regard  for  others,  and 
your  dress  betoken  the  modesty  and  refinement  of 
your  nature. 


fflOG^  CQODESTY. 


r  %^  PROPER  sense  of  modesty  is  a  virtue  which 
makes  real  merit  more  charming-,  because 
^^^^  seemingly  unconscious  of  excellence.  But 
carried  to  an  excess  it  will  tend  to  dwarf 
the  powers,  cripple  the  energies  and  defeat  the  great 
purposes  of  life.  When  a  man  is  well  qualified  to  do 
a  certain  thins:,  and  feels  that  he  can,  and  ought  to  do 
it,  but  is  impelled  by  modesty  to  shrink  back  into  ob- 
scurity for  fear  of  bringing  himself  into  notice,  then 
has  his  modesty  degenerated  into  cowardice,  and  in- 
stead of  consoling  himself  that  he  is  cherishing  a  great 
virtue,  he  needs  the  lash  of  stern  rebuke  for  his  lack 
of  manliness.  Richard  Steele,  one  of  the  most  charm- 
ing English  essayists,  says :  u  I  have  noticed  that  under 
the  notion  of  modesty  men  have  indulged  themselves  in 
a  spiritless  sheepishness,  and  been  forever  lost  to  them- 
selves, their  families,  their  friends  and  their  country.  I 
have  said  often,  modesty  must  be  an  act  of  the  will, 
and  yet  it  always  implies  self-denial,  for  if  a  man  has  a 
desire  to  do  what  is  laudable  for  him  to  perform,  and 
from  an  unmanly  bashfulness  shrinks  away  and  lets  his 
merit  languish  in  silence,  he  ought  not  be  angry  with 
the  world  that  a  more  unskillful  actor  succeeds  in  his 
part,  because  he  has  not  confidence  to  come  upon  the 
stage  himself.' 1 

257 


258  MOCK  MODESTY. 

A  lawyer  who  started  in  life  a  poor  young  man;  and 
had  risen  to  eminence,  said  that  he  owed  much  of  his 
success  to  the  advice  which  his  wife  gave  to  him  soon 
after  they  were  married.  She  said,  "John,  never 
make  an  excuse,"  and  he  never  did.  If  he  was  called 
upon  to  do  anything,  instead  of  excusing  himself,  hold- 
ing  back,  or  avoiding  it  altogether,  he  did  it  promptly, 
cheerfully,  and  to  the  best  of  his  ability. 

Such  men  are  valued,  and  often  succeed  beyond 
others  who  have  superior  qualifications,  because  of 
their  readiness  to  do  the  best  they  can,  while  those 
who  make  excuses  are  soon  dropped,  and  sink  into  the 
oblivion  which  they  invite.  A  man  must  have  confi- 
dence in  himself  if  he  would  be  worthy  of  the  confi- 
dence of  others. 

A  young  man  goes  to  a  new  home  among  strangers. 
He  is  invited  to  participate  in  literary  or  social  enter- 
tainments, or  to  identify  himself  with  the  church,  or 
Sunday  school,  where  a  place  of  usefulness  awaits  him, 
but  from  a  feeling  of  timidity,  or  distrust  of  his  powers, 
he  holds  himself  aloof,  and  turns  away  from  the  oppor- 
tunities of  happiness  and  advancement  which  are 
offered  him.  Thus,  thousands  of  deluded  people  have 
barred  themselves  from  much  of  the  highest  pleasures 
and  service  of  life. 

If  this  spectre  of  false  modesty  has  confronted  you 
with  a  thousand  nameless  terrors,  turn  now,  resist  it, 
and  call  all  the  latent  powers  of  manhood  to  your  aid 
to  free  you  from  its  enthrallment. 


CQai^e  the  CQosm  OF  yoyi^sBLH. 


-  i /ANY  times  in  personal  encounters  have 
(a^y^^  men  been  placed  in  desperate  situations 
V^LSP'*'  where  the  odds  have  been  overwhelmingly 
against  them,  and  where  it  would  seem  there  was  not 
the  remotest  chance  for  escape,  and  nothing  left  for 
them  but  to  give  up,  and  submit  in  the  utter  hopeless- 
ness of  despair  to  their  fate.  Under  such  circumstances 
there  is  something  grand  and  sublime  when  the  unfort- 
unate victim,  in  the  face  of  death,  instead  of  cowering 
in  terror,  and  letting  his  arms  fall  in  the  palsy  of  de- 
spair, resolves  to  sell  his  life  as  dearly  as  possible,  and 
with  superhuman  strength  which  is  born  of  his  strong 
determination,  contests  every  inch  of  his  ground  with 
as  much  persistency  and  enthusiasm  as  if  he  were  as- 
sured of  victory. 

The  hero  in  such  a  conflict  simplv  makes  the  most 
of  himself. — realizing  that  he  has  but  one  life,  he  re- 
solves not  to  throw  it  away,  but  to  make  it  cost  his 
assailants  as  dearly  as  possible. 

In  the  conflict  of  life,  when  struggling  with  trials  and 
misfortunes,  and  at  times  well  nigh  overwhelmed,  let 
us  also  call  to  our  aid  the  same  indomitable  heroism. 
We  have  but  one  life  to  live ;  a  few  short  years  are  all 
that  is  alloted  us  in  which  to  show  of  what  stuff  we  are 

259 


260  MAKE  THE  MOST  OF  YOURSELF. 

made,  and  how  we  shall  acquit  ourselves;  and  then 
the  opportunity  for  glorious,  heroic  action  is  over  for- 
ever, the  harvest  time  will  have  ended,  and  the  night 
will  have  come  when  no  man  can  work. 

The  man  who  has  resolved  to  make  the  most  of 
himself  will  strive  to  develop  to  the  utmost  all  his 
faculties,  and  improve  all  opportunities  for  honorable 
advancement.  No  matter  if  he  is  not  gifted  with 
genius, — no  matter  if  he  is  even  below  the  standard  of 
mediocrity,  he  will  be  lifted  up  into  the  bracing  atmos- 
phere of  earnestness,  and  roused  to  a  life  of  activity 
and  devotion  to  duty. 

That  great  educator  and  noble  man,  Dr.  Arnold  of 
Rugby,  said:  "  If  there  be  one  thing  on  earth  which 
is  truly  admirable,  it  is  to  see  God's  wisdom  blessing  an 
inferiority  of  natural  powers,  when  they  have  been 
honestly,  truly ,  and  zealously  cultivated."  Thousands  of 
men  who  are  active  in  every  good  work,  and  are  the 
props  on  which  the  dearest  interests  of  our  social  order 
rest,  answer  to  this  description,  and  yet  they  are  com- 
mon-place men  of  ordinary  intellect,  and  in  early  life 
were  very  unpromising.  The  hardest  and  best  work  of 
the  world  is  done  by  men  who  have  had  little  to  help 
them,  except  the  high  resolve  that  they  would  make  the 
most  of  themselves,  and  because  of  this  resolve,  and 
guided  by  sincere  convictions  of  duty,  they  have  out- 
stripped and  left  far  behind  in  the  race  of  life,  many  jj 
gifted  by  genius,  favored  by  fortune,  blessed  with 
friends,  and  surrounded  by  powerful  social  influences. 
A  hard-hearted  worldly  man  said  to  a  poor  boy 


MAKE  THE  MOST  OF  YOURSELF. 


26l 


who  was  struggling  to  get  an  education,  and  to  raise 
himself  in  the  world  by  his  industry:  "  You  can  never 
succeed;  it  is  impossible.  Born  a  servant  you  were, 
and  a  hewer  of  wood  and  drawer  of  water  you  must 
remain,  and  leave  book  learning  to  those  who  have 
better  advantages.'" 

The  boy  was  a  Christian,  and  his  answer  did  honor 
to  his  profession:  "  All  things  are  possible  with  God, 
and  no  good  thing  will  he  withhold  from  them  that  walk 
uprightly."  That  boy  became  a  good  and  useful  man, 
honored  and  trusted,  and  beloved  by  all  around  him. 

Dean  Swift  said:  "It  is  in  men  as  in  soils;  there 
is  sometimes  a  vein  of  gold,  which  the  owner  knows 
not  of,"  and  so  in  your  nature  there  lies  hidden  rich 
mines  of  thought  and  purpose  awaiting  development. 

Bishop  C.  H.  Fowler  said  in  a  lecture:  "  The  reason 
why  there  are  not  more  great  men,  is  because  we  are 
not  waked  up.  Our  brains  are  capable  of  a  million 
pounds  to  an  inch,  and  we  work  them  with  about  fifty," 
which  is  but  another  way  of  saying  that  we  do  not 
make  the  most  of  ourselves. 

Many  years  ago  a  young  man  went  to  the  East 
Indies  to  seek  a  fortune.  After  arriving,  he  sought 
employment,  but  every  door  seemed  to  be  closed 
against  him,  and  at  length,  his  funds  being  exhausted, 
and  feeling  thoroughly  disheartened  by  his  disappoint- 
ments, he  became  desperate  and  resolved  to  terminaie 
the  struggle  for  existence  by  taking  his  life.  He  went 
to  his  room,  loaded  a  pistol,  put  the  muzzle  to  his  head 


262 


MAKE  THE  MOST  OF  YOURSELF. 


and  pulled  the  trigger,  but  it  hung  fire.  Astonished 
at  this  remarkable  deliverance,  he  thought  that  he 
would  attempt  to  fire  the  pistol  out  of  the  window,  and 
then,  if  it  went  off,  that  he  would  accept  the  event  as  a 
token  from  God  that  his  life  was  spared  by  His  provi- 
dence, and  that  there  was  something  for  him  yet  to  do 
in  the  world.  So  he  opened  the  window,  pointed  the 
pistol  in  the  open  air,  again  pulled  the  trigger,  and  the 
pistol  was  discharged  at  the  first  attempt.  Trembling 
with  excitement,  he  resolved  to  hold  his  life  sacred, 
and  to  make  the  most  of  it,  and  he  went  out  again  into 
the  world  with  an  indomitable  determination  to  suc- 
ceed. That  young  man  became  the  famous  General 
Clive,  whose  achievements  read  like  a  romance,  for 
with  but  a  handful  of  European  soldiers  he  secured  to 
the  East  India  Company,  and  ultimately  to  Great  Brit- 
ain, the  control  of  an  immense  country  containing  mar- 
velous riches,  and  about  two  hundred  millions  of  people. 

Then  strive  to  make  the  most  of  yourself,  however 
unpromising  you  may  be  in  yourself,  however  discour- 
aging your  surroundings,  and  dark  may  appear  your 
future.  The  simple  resolve  on  your  part  to  do  this 
will  give  you  strength,  and  nerve  you  with  new  cour- 
age and  hope.  With  laudable  motives  to  urge  you 
on,  it  will  lead  you  to  the  heights  of  success  where, 
looking  back  on  the  path  you  have  traversed,  you  will 
be  astonished  at  the  mountains  of  difficulty  you  have 
scaled,  and  the  depths  of  perplexity  and  discouragement 
through  which  you  have  safely  passed. 


(Suai^d  the  &5eap£  Spot. 


pX  our  physical  life  we  are  no  stronger  than  our 
weakest  point.  If  a  man  have  weak  lungs, 
\LV@C  but  otherwise  a  superb  physique,  his  feeble 
respiratory  organs  will  probably  be  the  meas- 
ure of  his  life.  And,  as  in  the  physical  life,  the  in- 
firm, bv  shielding  their  infirmities,  prolong  their  lives 
for  many  vears,  even  outgrow  their  weakness,  and  out- 
live the  strong  and  vigorous,  so  in  our  moral  nature, 
the  consciousness  of  weakness  and  the  great  effort 
made  to  overcome  it  will  strengthen  and  build  up  a 
robust  character.  Alexander  the  Great,  with  all  his 
greatness,  had  a  love  for  the  intoxicating  cup,  and  this 
weakness  ended  his  career  before  middle  life.  It  is 
related  of  Peter  the  Great,  that  he  made  a  law  which 
decreed  that  if  any  nobleman  abused  his  serfs  he  should 
be  looked  upon  as  insane,  and  a  conservator  appointed 
to  have  charge  of  his  person  and  estate.  He  had  him- 
self a  most  violent  temper,  and  one  day  in  a  passion 
struck  his  gardener,  who,  being  a  man  of  great  sensi- 
bility, took  to  his  bed  and  died.  The  great  monarch, 
when  hearing  of  this,  exclaimed  in  tears,  "  Alas,  I  have 
civilized  my  own  subjects  ;  I  have  conquered  other 

nations  yet  1  have  nor  been  able  to  conquer  and  civil- 

263 


264 


GUARD  THE  WEAK  SPOT. 


ize  myself.'"  He  did  not  guard  the  weak  spot,  and  so 
committed  the  very  offense  that  he  was  anxious  to 
restrain  in  others. 

So  every  man,  however  strong,  has  some  weakness 
in  his  character  from  which,  more  than  from  any  other 
cause,  he  is  in  danger  of  making  his  life  a  failure.  It 
is  the  highest  wisdom  to  so  understand  ourselves  as  to 
be  aware  of  our  infirmities,  and  so  guard  against  them 
with  constant  watchfulness.  It  would  seem  reason- 
able to  suppose  that  the  principle  of  self-preservation 
would  lead  us  to  a  rigorous  self-examination  for  this 
purpose,  but  strange  to  say,  it  is  often  the  case  that  the 
very  weaknesses  of  men  are  precisely  the  points  on 
which  they  pride  themselves  as  being  strong  A  man 
has  a  taste  for  drink,  and  he  indulges  himself  in  spite 
of  the  remonstrances  of  his  friends,  because  he  imagines 
that  he  can  completely  control  his  appetite.  He  cannot 
be  made  to  believe  that  his  habit  of  drinking  is  a 
weakness  which  is  overmastering  him,  and  which, 
ere  long,  may  prove  his  destruction.  Another  man 
may  have  a  miserly  and  avaricious  disposition,  and 
instead  of  resisting  its  encroachments,  and  counteracting 
them  by  enforced  generosity,  and  thus  guarding  his 
weak  spot,  he  refuses  to  exercise  what  feeble  benevo- 
lent impulses  he  may  have  remaining.  So,  a  proud 
man,  instead  of  watching  against  pride,  is  vigilant  only 
against  any  occasion  of  humility,  and  thus  his  weak- 
ness becomes  more  confirmed. 

One  of  the  most  difficult  things  for  us  to  understand, 


GUARD  THE  WEAK  SPOT. 


265 


is  our  own  nature  and  character;  we  are  willing  to 
study  everything  but  ourselves,  and  consequently  have 
entirely  a  false  estimate  of  our  condition  and  our 
needs.  Seneca,  one  of  the  greatest  of  the  ancient  phil- 
osophers, said  that,  "We  should  every  nignt  call  our- 
selves  to  account:  What  infirmity  have  I  mastered 
to-day?  what  passion  opposed?  what  temptation 
resisted?  what  virtue  acquired?  "  and  then  he  follows 
with  the  profound  truth  that  "  Our  vices  will  abate  of 
themselves  if  they  be  brought  every  day  to  the  shrift. " 

If  we  were  using  an  implement  with  a  weak  place 
in  it,  how  careful  should  we  be  not  to  throw  any  un- 
usual strain  on  that  part.  Let  us  apply  the  same  prac- 
tical wisdom  in  our  treatment  of  ourselves.  Let  judg- 
ment and  reason,  like  faithful  sentinels,  give  the  note 
of  alarm  when  the  hour  of  temptation  comes,  and  call 
into  exercise  our  principles  of  right,  our  convictions  of 
duty,  our  sentiments  of  honor,  and  all  the  powers  of 
our  manhood  or  womanhood.  As  many  a  noble  ship 
has  stranded  because  of  one  defective  timber,  when  all 
the  other  parts  were  in  excellent  condition,  so  thou- 
sands of  men  are  destroyed  by  one  vice  or  weakness. 

Then  guard  the  weak  spot  with  ceaseless  vigilance; 
watch  it  with  impassioned  earnestness,  that  it  may  not 
destroy  in  you  the  perfect  work  which  God  has 
planned. 


P?ow  Gp^eaut  <T)en  Y)ayb  F^isbn. 


HAT  a  list  of  illustrious  names  have  come 

up  from  the  ranks  of  poverty  and  toil. 

No  one  need  be  dismayed  because  he 

is  poor,  for,  if  he  has  talent,  industry  and 

a  purpose,  he  can  make  his  way  to  a  high  position,  as 

others  have  done  before  him. 

Homer,  the  prince  of  ancient  poets,  was  a  beggar, 

strolling  from  city  to  city.    Virgil,  the  Latin  poet,  was 

a  potter's  son,  and  Horace,  the  son  of  a  shopkeeper. 

Shakspeare,  the  greatest  of  English  dramatic  poets, 

was  the  son  of  a  wool  stapler,  and,  according  to  Pope, 

his  principal  object  in  writing  his  plays  and  cultivating 

literature  was  to  secure  an  honest  independence. 

Milton,  the  greatest  of  English  epic  poets,  and  Gray, 

the  author  of  the  famous  Elegy,  were  the  sons  of 

money  scriveners. 

Chaucer  was  in  early  lite  a  soldier,  and  Hogarth, 

the  celebrated  painter,  was  apprenticed  to  an  engraver 

of  pewter  pots. 

Wordsworth  was  a  distributer  of  stamps,  and  Sir 

Walter  Scott  a  Clerk  to  the  Court  of  Sessions;  each 

uniting  a  genius  for  poetry  with  punctual  and  practical 

habits  as  men  of  business. 

Robert  Burns  was  the  son  of  a  poor  farmer;  his 

early  life  was  humble,  and  his  education  very  limited. 

266 


HOW  GREAT  MEM   HAVE  RISEN. 


267 


Brought  up  to  labor  with  his  hands,  he  was  yet  a  very 
ardent  reader,  and,  though  toiling  like  a  slave  to  sup- 
port his  parents,  he  found  time  to  study  the  Spectator, 
Pope's  works  and  many  other  useful  books. 

John  Stuart  Mill  was  in  one  of  the  departments  of 
the  East  India  Company,  and  won  the  admiration  of 
his  colleagues  by  the  ability  with  which  he  conducted 
the  business  of  his  office. 

Alexander  Murray,  the  distinguished  linguist,  learned 
to  write,  by  scribbling  his  letters  on  an  old  wool  card, 
with  the  end  of  a  burnt  heather  stem. 

James  Watt,  who  was  practically  the  inventor  of 
the  steam  engine,  was  an  instrument  maker  in  Glas- 
gow, and  while  working  at  his  trade  studied  French, 
German  and  Italian,  in  order  to  avail  himself  of  the  val- 
uable works  in  those  languages  on  mechanical  subjects. 

The  Royal  Exchange,  in  London,  was  built  about 
three  hundred  years  ago  by  Sir  Thomas  Gresham, 
who  was  a  foundling.  When  a  babe  he  was  left, 
probably  by  his  unnatural  mother,  to  perish  in  a  field, 
but  a  boy  who  was  passing  in  a  lane  near  by,  was  at- 
tracted by  the  loud  chirp  of  a  grasshopper  to  discover 
where  he  lay.  The  boy  carried  him  home  to  his 
mother,  who  brought  him  up.  He  grew  to  be  a  strong 
man,  went  to  London,  became  a  merchant,  one  of  the 
most  noted  men  in  the  city,  and  counselor  to  Queen 
Elizabeth,  who  consulted  him  on  great  affairs  of  state. 

An  eminent  man,  who  attained  a  high  place  in  the 
estimation  of  men  by  his  talents,  thus  gives  an  account 


268 


HOW  GREAT  MEN  HAVE  RISEN. 


of  his  life  when  a  schoolboy :  He  said  that  he  rose  at 
six  in  the  morning  in  winter,  and  made  the  fires ;  spent 
the  time  until  eight  in  sawing  wood  enough  to  keep 
three  fires  during  the  day;  attended  school  from  half 
past  eight  till  eleven;  ran  errands  till  one;  dined  at 
half  past  one ;  attended  school  again  from  two  till  half 
past  four;  after  tea  wrote  for  his  employer  until  nine; 
then  studied  until  eleven  o'clock.  This  was  his  daily 
routine,  with  very  slight  changes.  Said  he:  "I  do 
not  think  I  spent  half  an  hour  a  week  in  idleness." 

Benjamin  Franklin  was  a  journeyman  printer,  and 
every  one  is  familiar  with  the  picture  of  the  shabbily 
dressed  boy,  going  through  the  streets  of  Philadelphia, 
with  a  roll  of  bread  under  each  arm,  and  munching  a 
third. 

Neander,  the  famous  German  scholar  and  historian, 
was  the  son  of  poor  Jewish  parents,  and  had  few  ad- 
vantages. He  used  to  glide  into  a  bookstore  almost 
every  day,  and  sit  for  hours  so  absorbed  as  to  be  un- 
conscious of  what  was  passing  around  him.  The 
bookseller,  noticing  his  selection  of  standard  books, 
became  interested  in  his  progress,  assisted  him  in  se- 
curing a  thorough  education,  and  afterwards  became 
the  publisher  of  his  former  pupil's  books. 

Hundreds  of  other  instances  might  be  added  to 
these,  showing  that  great  men  come  from  the  ranks  of 
the  toilers,  and  that  the  discipline  which  comes  from 
honorable  labor,  whether  of  the  hand  or  the  brain,  is 
one  of  the  greatest  essentials  to  success. 


$3  LnrPE^AI^Y  LflFE. 


pJ|H  fjN  no  other  country  in  the  world  is  there  a 
C\ A  I    greater  inclination  to  enter  the  field  of  litera- 
fcS^  ture  than  in  ours.    There  are  few  ambitious 
men  or  women  of  average  ability  who  have 
not  at  some  time  in  their  lives  attempted  to  write  a 
poem,  or  a  newspaper  article,  if  not  something  more 
pretentious,  with  a  belief  that  they  had  a  special  gift 
for  literary  work.    One  of  the  standing  burlesques  of 
the  age,  is  the  editor's  basket  crammed  with  contribu- 
tions  doomed  to  the  remorseless  flames,  or  the  unpoet- 
ical  ragman. 

A  literary  life  is    one  of  infinite    labor, —  severe 

patience,  exacting,  unappreciated  hard  work.  Johnson 

said  that  a  man  must  turn  over  half  a  library  to  write 

one  book.    Wordsworth  replied  to  an  authoress  who 

told  him  that  she  had  spent  six  hours  on  a  poem,  that 

he  would  have  spent  six  weeks.    Bishop  Hall  labored 

thirty  years  on  one  of  his  works.  The  Commentary  on 

the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  was  in  Owen's  hands  at 

least  twenty  years,  and  Gibbon  devoted  as  much  time 

to  writing  his  "  Decline  and  Fall  of   the  Roman 

Empire.'"    Dr.  Adam  Clarke  was  at  work  for  twenty 

years  on  his  Commentary,  and  Noah  Webster  was 

269 


270 


A  LITERARY  LIFE. 


thirty-six  years  in  completing  his  dictionary.  Moore 
spent  several  weeks  in  finishing  one  of  his  musical 
stanzas,  which  reads  as  if  it  were  a  flash  of  genius 
evoked  without  any  effort.  Thackeray  worked  faith- 
fully for  fifteen  years  before  his  ability  was  recog- 
nized; and  so  hundreds  of  instances  might  be  given, 
showing  what  indefatigable  labor  is  required,  even 
when  united  with  genius,  before  the  merits  of  the 
author  are  recognized. 

There  is  probably  no  calling  which  is  beset  by 
greater  discouragements,  and  this  accounts  for  the  fact, 
that  out  of  the  multitudes  of  ambitious  competitors  for 
literary  honors,  there  is  only  here  and  there  one  who 
ever  wins  them. 

The  success  of  literary  work  is  determined  largely 
by  the  critics,  reviewers,  and  publishers,  upon  whose 
judgment  the  great  mass  of  readers  rely;  and  although 
these  are  generally  men  of  acute  perceptions,  and  fine 
literary  taste,  yet  they  possess  the  common  infirmities 
of  human  nature,  and  have  often  failed  to  appreciate 
or  even  to  recognize  the  greatest  merit.  In  a  work 
written  in  the  last  century,  entitled  the  "  Lives  of  the 
English  Poets,"  the  author  says  of  Milton:  "John 
Milton  was  one  whose  natural  parts  might  deservedly 
give  him  a  place  among  the  principal  of  our  English 
poets,  having  written  two  heroic  poems,  and  a  tragedy. 
But  his  fame  has  gone  out  like  a  candle  in  a  snuff."" 
Edmund  Waller,  one  of  the  most  famous  poets  con- 
temporary with  Milton,  refers  to  "Paradise  Lost"  as 


A  LITERARY  LIFE. 


271 


a  tedious  poem  by  the  blind  old  school-master,  in  which 
there  is  nothing  remarkable  but  the  length.  A  critic 
once  remarked  that  nothing  short  of  an  act  of  Parlia- 
ment would  induce  people  to  read  the  sonnets  of  Shak- 
speare.  Byron  was  received  by  the  reviewers  with 
the  most  bitter  sarcasm,  and  when  Dickens  brought 
out  "  Pickwick,1'  a  critic  condescending  to  notice  the 
"low  cockney  tale, "  shrewdly  perceived  that  the 
author  was  already  proving  himself  unequal,  and  that 
the  "  thin  vein  of  humor  "  was  rapidly  showing  signs 
of  exhaustion.  When  Robert  Bloomfield  took  his 
poem,  upon  which  his  fame  rests,  "  The  Farmer's 
Boy,"  and  offered  it  for  publication  to  a  London  mag 
azine,  the  critic  who  looked  over  the  manuscript, 
laughed  long  and  loud  as  he  read  it,  and  advised  the 
editor  to  recall  the  author  and  give  him  some  sound 
advice  in  order  to  dispel  the  illusion  that  he  was  a 
poet.  Henry  Ward  Beecher,  in  the  early  part  of  his 
career,  sent  half  a  dozer  articles  to  the  publisher  of  a 
religious  paper,  offering  them  in  payment  for  his  sub- 
scription, but  they  were  "respectfully  declined."  Miss 
Alcott,  one  of  the  most  sparkling  writers  of  this  gener- 
ation, when  a  young  school  teacher,  sent  a  manuscript 
to  a  publisher  which  was  returned  to  her  with  the  sug- 
gestion that  she  had  better  stick  to  teaching.  Tenny- 
son's first  productions,  when  offered  to  the  public, 
provoked  the  ridicule  of  a  leading  review,  and  were 
duly  consigned  by  it  to  oblivion.  Buckle,  the  gifted 
author  of  the  "  History  of  Civilization,"  which  has 


2/2 


A  LITERARY  LIFE. 


been  pronounced  the  most  original  historical  work  of 
this  century,  trudged  from  publisher  to  publisher  in  Lon- 
don with  his  first  volume  but  could  not  find  one  who 
would  take  it,  and  was  obliged  to  publish  it  at  his  own 
expense.  Wordsworth,  Bulwer,  Washington  Irving, 
Charlotte  Bronte,  and  many  others  who  became  famous, 
all  encountered  the  ominous  shakings  of  the  head,  and 
serious  misgivings  of  the  critics,  who  endeavored  to 
discourage  them  in  their  career.  It  is  said  that  when 
Thomas  Campbell  sent  his  famous  poem,  "  Hohenlin- 
den,"  to  an  English  newspaper  (for  publication)  there 
appeared  this  paragraph  among  the  a  Notices  to  Cor- 
respondents " ;  "  To  T.  C. —  The  lines  commencing, 
k  On  Linden  when  the  sun  was  low,1  are  not  up  to  our 
standard.    Poetry  is  not  T.  C.'s  forte." 

If  these  illustrious  children  of  genius  encountered 
such  rebuffs,  what  can  be  expected  for  the  young 
aspirant  for  literary  honors,  who  is  modestly  treading 
the  first  steps  of  the  pathway  to  fame?  But  their 
examples  also  contain  encouragement.  If  you  have 
burning  within  you  the  God-given  spark  of  genius,  and 
feel  that  you  have  a  work  to  do  with  your  pen,  let 
nothing  deter  you,  for,  if  you  are  willing,  like  them,  to 
pay  the  price,  you  will  rise  to  your  proper  place,  and 
disprove  the  false  judgments  which  would  rashly  doom 
you  to  failure. 

A  literary  life  does  not  usually  bring  great  pecuniary 
rewards.  Probably  no  kind  of  brain  work  is  so  poorly 
paid.    Although  literary  labor  is  better  rewarded  now 


A  LITERARY  LIFE. 


273 


than  when  Johnson  and  Goldsmith  lived  and  toiled  in 
their  garrets  on  Grub  street,  yet  comparatively  few 
writers,  even  among  those  who  have  attained  emi- 
nence, have  become  wealthy  from  the  products  of  their 
pens.  It  is  said  that  Bayard  Taylor,  who  had  an  inti- 
mate personal  friendship  with  most  of  the  literary 
celebrities  of  this  and  other  countries,  expressed  the 
opinion  that  there  is  not  one  first-class  author  who  has 
obtained  wealth  from  his  best  and  most  enduring 
literary  work;  and  it  is  also  said  that  Ralph  Waldo 
Emerson,  who  wrote  books  for  forty  years,  never 
wrote  but  one  that  had  a  remunerative  sale,  and  found 
it  necessary  to  live  in  a  simple  and  frugal  manner, 
Bryant,  who  was  a  poet  from  his  youth,  received  com- 
paratively but  a  small  amount  of  money  for  his  poems, 
and  Washington  Irving  was  nearly  seventy  years  old 
before  the  income  from  his  books  met  the  expenses  of  his 
household,  although  he  was  one  of  the  most  gifted, 
popular  and  prolific  of  American  authors. 

A  contributor  to  periodical  literature,  in  speaking  of 
the  compensation  he  received,  said  that  he  had  been 
writing  for  ten  years,  and  during  that  time  he  estimated 
that  he  had  worked  fifteen  months'  time  at  eight  hours 
a  day,  during  each  year.  He  furnished  during  this 
period  nineteen  articles  for  magazines,  for  which  he 
was  paid  nine  hundred  and  twenty-seven  dollars; 
received  one  hundred  and  thirty-eight  dollars  for  nine 
articles  in  five  weeklies,  and  seventy-eight  dollars  for 
correspondence  and  reviews  in  two  dailies.    He  also 


2/4 


A  LITERARY  LIFE. 


wrote  one  romance,  which  netted  him  one  hundred 
and  ninety-eight  dollars,  and  three  others  which 
brought  him  in  five  hundred  and  sixty-two  dollars, 
making  a  total  of  nineteen  hundred  and  one  dollars  for 
the  ten  years'  labor, —  or  less  than  two  hundred  dollars 
a  year. 

Milton  only  received  about  twenty-five  dollars  for 
"  Paradise  Lost,"  and  Shakspeare  about  the  same 
amount  for  "  Hamlet. "  Ben  Jonson  was  given  fifty- 
five  dollars  for  one  of  his  best  plays,  and  Dryden  was 
happy  when  he  received  five  hundred  dollars  for  one 
of  his  best  productions.  Goldsmith  sold  his  "  Vicar  of 
Wakefield  "  for  three  hundred  dollars,  and  the 
"  Deserted  Village  "  for  five  hundred.  Charles  Lamb 
agreed  to  write  for  two  years  for  the  London  Magazine, 
for  the  sum  of  eight  hundred  and  fifty  dollars.  Dr. 
Johnson  received  five  hundred  dollars  for  "Rasselas;" 
Fielding,  three  hundred  dollars  for  his  "  Tom  Jones," 
and  Dean  Swift  fifteen  hundred  dollars  for  u  Gulliver's 
Travels.1'  Edgar  AllanPoe  received  but  ten  dollars  for 
his  poem,  "The  Raven." 

On  the  other  hand,  there  are  many  instances  where 
literary  labor  has  received  generous  remuneration. 
Pope's  translation  of  Homer  brought  him  about  ten 
thousand  dollars.  Tennyson  was  once  paid  five  thou- 
sand dollars  for  a  single  poem,  and  an  English  pub- 
lisher offered  him  sixty-five  thousand  dollars  down,  and 
fifteen  thousand  dollars  a  year,  to  write  exclusively  for 
him.    It  is  said  that  George  Elliott  was  paid  fifty 


A  LITERARY  LIFE. 


275 


thousand  dollars  for  1  Daniel  Deronda."  The  author 
of  "  Rutledge  received  for  it  eight  thousand  dollars; 
while  she  who  wrote  "Beulah,"  realized  one  hundred 
thousand  dollars  for  her  novels  in  eight  years.  Sir 
Walter  Scott  made  by  his  pen  the  immense  sum  of 
two  hundred  and  fifty-nine  thousand  dollars,  and  Byron 
forty-five  thousand  dollars.  The  copyright  on  "Bar- 
naby  Rudge,"  for  six  months,  brought  Dickens  fifteen 
thousand  dollars. 

But  do  not  be  dazzled  by  these  exceptional  instances 
of  great  pecuniary  profit ;  nor  be  deluded  by  the  rapid 
and  brilliant  success  wrhich  now  and  then  attends  some 
genius  of  striking  originality,  or  the  lucky  author  who 
has  got  himself  before  the  public  by  a  fortunate  hit. 
Dr,  John  Brown,  in  his  book  "  Spare  Hours,"  says  that 
"  every  man  should  deny  himself  the  luxury  of  taking 
his  hat  off  to  the  public,  unless  he  has  something  to 
say,  and  has  done  his  best  to  say  it  aright/"' 

A  literary  life  is  a  toilsome  road;  do  not  attempt  to 
enter  it  unless  you  have  the  genius,  the  energy  and  the 
dauntless  courage  which  will  support  you  through 
years  ot  weary  labor  and  discouragement,  or  you  will 
fail  to  achieve  success. 


Public  Speaking. 


NDER  our  form  of  government  every  man 
is  liable  to  be  called  to  fill  some  office  of  trust 
and  responsibility ;  and  no  citizen  is  properly 
fitted  to  discharge  his  duty  in  public  life  without  being 
able  to  express  his  views  before  an  audience  in  a  clear 
and  intelligible  manner.  Then  how  numerous  are  the 
occasions  in  private  life  where,  if  one  is  capable  of  ready 
expression,  he  can  double  his  own  influence  and  render 
valuable  service  to  others.  Cato  defined  an  orator  as 
a  good  man,  skilled  in  the  art  of  speaking.  The  ability 
to  make  a  fine  speech  may  be  ranked  among  the 
highest  accomplishments.  It  requires  the  rare  com- 
bination of  a  well  modulated  voice,  graceful  and  ap- 
propriate gestures,  a  ready  flow  of  words  and  ideas, — 
and  all  kindled  into  flame  by  the  fire  of  a  sublime 
enthusiasm.  While  few  attain  this  rare  excellence, 
yet  it  is  within  the  power  of  every  man  of  ordinary 
ability  to  speak  well  if  he  will  bestow  the  required 
labor  and  practice. 

Macaulay,  who  was  himself  a  most  fluent  and  ready 
speaker,  observes:  "  The  art  of  speaking  is  one  which 
men  of  respectable  abilities,  with  assiduous  and  intrepid 
practice,  seldom  fail  to  acquire."    Another  eminent 

author  remarks:    "  Nor  should  it  ever  be  forgotten, 

276 


PtJBLIC  SPEAKING. 


that  though  the  constitution  of  mind  which  is  neces- 
sary for  the  highest  eloquence  is  very  seldom  to  be 
met  with,  there  is  no  faculty  whatever  which  admits 
of  such  indefinite  growth  and  development,  or  in  which 
perseverance  and  diligence  will  do  so  much,  as  in  that 
of  public  speaking.'1 

It  is  true,  that  some  have  a  natural  facility  of  expres- 
sion, and  can  acquire  the  art  much  sooner  than  others, 
but  it  is  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  great  orators  derive 
their  power  entirely  from  natural  gifts.  Every  great 
orator,  with  rare  exceptions,  is  the  product  of  careful 
training.  To  make  a  speech  acceptable  and  effective., 
there  must  be  a  pleasing  and  impressive  delivery. 

Many  men  of  undoubted  learning  and  ability,  largely 
waste  their  efforts  by  a  failure  here ;  while  on  the  other 
hand,  many  of  limited  knowledge  and  little  application 
make  their  shallow  logic  tolerable,  and  even  attractive, 
by  their  fine  manner  of  presenting  it.  Those  modula- 
tions and  intonations  of  the  voice,  which  make  oratory 
so  effective,  are  merely  a  matter  of  drill,  and  no  one 
need  despair  who  possesses  the  ordinary  powers  of  ut- 
terance. 

The  late  Dr.  E.  N.  Kirk,  who  was  one  of  the  finest 
pulpit  orators  of  this  century,  possessed  a  finely  modu- 
lated voice,  which,  like  an  exquisite  harp,  was  respon- 
sive to  every  phase  of  tenderness  or  gust  of  passion; 
and  this  of  itself  served  to  charm  and  fascinate  many  of 
his  auditors. 

Who  would  have  thought  that,  when  a  young  man, 


278 


PUBLIC  SPEAKING. 


the  distinguished  divine  was  remarkable  for  defects  of 
voice  and  utterance, 'and  was  the  butt  of  ridicule  in  his 
class  at  college  for  these  peculiarities.  In  his  old  age 
and  in  the  ripeness  of  his  fame,  he  used  to  relate  how 
he  cured  himself.  After  stating  that,  soon  after  enter- 
ing Princeton  Seminary,  he  was  called  upon  to  declaim 
before  a  venerable  professor  and  the  college,  he  says : 
"  When  I  spoke,  I  was  so  hurried,  so  indistinct,  so  em- 
barrassed, so  confused  and  awkward,  that  the  older 
classes  were  in  a  titter,  and  the  instructor  along  with 
them.  I  went  to  my  room,  overwhelmed  with  mortifi. 
cation,  and  at  once  began  a  reformation.  I  took  a 
familiar  declamation,  and  pronounced  each  letter  of 
each  word,  thus:  M-y,  my;  n-a-m-e,  name;  i-s,  is; 
N-o-r-v-a-1,  Norval;  etc.,  etc.  I  continued  this  with 
similar  exercises  for  weeks.  When  I  next  declaimed 
before  the  class,  the  professor  lifted  up  his  hands  in 
amazement  and  exclaimed:  "  Is  it  possible  that  this  is 
the  young  man  at  whom  we  laughed  a  few  weeks  ago !" 
This  shows  how  the  defects  of  pronunciation  and  inton- 
ation can  be  easily  overcome  by  systematic  application 
of  the  simplest  methods;  and  this  is  within  the  power 
of  every  speaker  to  do.  Appropriate  gestures  come  of 
themselves  when  confidence  is  acquired,  and  when  the 
mind  is  fully  aroused  by  the  theme  under  consideration, 
these  may  be  largely  trusted  to  the  inspiration  of  the 
occasion. 

To  acquire  a  ready  flow  of  choice  language,  is  by 
far  a  greater  task  than  the  two  preceding  qualities  of 


PUBLIC  SPEAKING. 


279 


voice  and  gesture.  Mere  fluency  of  speech  is  often  the 
product  of  natural  loquacity,  but  a  command  of  words, 
necessary  to  elegant  and  copious  expression,  can  only 
be  obtained  by  continued  study  of  language  itself,  and 
much  practice  in  speaking. 

Martin  Farquhar  Tupper,  in  his  "  Proverbial  Philos- 
ophy,17 gives  the  key  to  success,  both  in  facility  of  ex- 
pression and  the  formation  of  clear  ideas.    He  says: 

"When  thou  walkest,  musing  with  thyself,  in  the  green  aisles 
of  the  forest, 

Utter  thy  thinkings  aloud,  that  they  take  a  shape  and  a  being ; 
For  he  that  pondereth  in  silence,  crowdeth  the  storehouse  of  his 
mind, 

And  though  he  have  heaped  great  riches,  yet  is  he  hindered  in 
the  using." 

The  eloquent  Henry  Clay,  who,  with  Webster  and 
Calhoun,  formed  the  triumvirate  of  American  oratory 
in  their  day,  in  an  address  to  young  men,  thus  gave 
the  secret  of  his  wonderful  power:  "  I  owe  my  suc- 
cess in  life  to  one  single  fact,  viz. :  that  at  the  age  of 
twenty-seven,  I  commenced,  and  continued  for  years, 
the  process  of  daily  reading  and  speaking  upon  the 
contents  of  some  historical  and  scientific  book.  These 
off-hand  efforts  were  made  sometimes  in  a  cornfield, 
at  others  in  the  forest,  and,  not  infrequently,  in  some 
distant  barn,  with  the  horse  and  ox  for  my  auditors. 
It  is  to  this  early  practice,  in  the  art  of  all  arts,  that  I 
am  indebted  for  the  primary  and  leading  impulses  that 
stimulated  me  forward,  and  shaped  and  molded  my 
entire  subsequent  destiny. "    And  then  he  adds  the  fol- 


28o 


PUBLIC  SPEAKING. 


lowing  excellent  advice  and  stimulus:  u  Improve, 
then,  young  gentlemen,  the  superior  advantages  you 
here  enjoy.  Let  not  a  day  pass  without  exercising 
your  powers  of  speech.  There  is  no  power  like  that 
of  oratory.  Caesar  controlled  men  by  exciting  their 
fears;  Cicero,  by  captivating  their  affections  and  sway- 
ing their  passions.  The  influence  of  the  one  perished 
with  its  author;  that  of  the  other  continues  to  this  day.'1 

It  is  said  that  when  Webster  was  trout  fishing,  he 
would  round  off  his  periods  for  future  use,  and  that, 
on  one  occasion,  when  having  caught  two  fine  fish, 
he  passed  them  into  his  basket  with  a  burst  of  language 
which,  with  appropriate  modifications,  was  afterwards 
admired  as  one  of  the  most  remarkable  passages  in  his 
famous  Bunker  Hill  oration:  "  Venerable  men!  you 
have  come  down  to  us  from  a  former  generation. 
Heaven  has  bounteously  lengthened  out  your  lives- 
that  you  might  behold  this  day." 

Lord  Erkskine  was  one  of  the  most  brilliant  of  ad  - 
vocates during  a  period  of  extraordinary  eloquence; 
and  he  acquired  his  remarkable  command  of  rich, 
copious  and  elegant  language  largely  by  his  thorough 
and  continuous  study  in  early  life  of  Milton  and  Burke, 
of  whose  diction  Rufus  Choate  said:  "  It  is  the  finest, 
richest  and  most  remarkable  English  extant.'"  Rufus 
Choate,  himself,  was  remarkable  for  his  astonishing 
facility  of  expression;  but,  although  he  was  a  natural 
orator,  his  power  to  marshal  words  at  will  was  the  re- 
sult of  continued  study.    His  biographer  says  that  it 


PUBLIC  SPEAKING. 


28l 


was  his  habit  daily  to  translate  from  Greek  and  Latin 
into  English,  and  practice  the  multiplication  of  syno- 
nyms, and  that  his  idea  of  diction  was  to  get  hold  of 
striking  and  strange  expressions,  which  should  help 
him  to  hold  a  jury's  fatigued  attention;  but  that  in 
every  part  of  study  he  relied  vastly  on  the  pen,  which 
he  valued  as  the  corrector  of  vagueness  of  thought  and 
expression. 

'-But  there  must  not  only  be  facility  of  expression, 
the  power  to  array  words,  but  there  must  be  ideas  for 
the  words  to  clothe  and  adorn.  The  orator  should  be 
a  man  possessed  of  large  stores  of  varied  and  extensive 
knowledge,  and  should  have  the  happy  faculty  of  so 
using  it,  as  to  animate  and  illustrate  the  views  he  sets 
forth,  so  that  they  will  be  strongly  impressed  on  the 
minds  of  his  auditors,  and  be  received  with  pleasure. 

A  writer  has  forcibly  said:  "A  public  speaker 
should  lay  under  tribute  all  knowledge.  Let  him,  like 
the  Roman  general,  try  to  gather  spoils  and  trophies 
from  all  nations  and  from  every  age,  to  deck  the 
triumphs  of  his  cause.  Nothing,  which  in  all  his  re- 
searches he  gathers,  should  he  despise.  What  seems 
useless  to-day  may  prove  of  greatest  value  to-morrow. 
What  seems  a  dull  pebble,  may  flash  when  held  up  to 
the  light,  with  the  brilliancy  of  a  diamond.  More  than 
one  public  speaker  has  done  what  the  old  alchemists 
failed  to  do, — taken  materials  which  seemed  bare  and 
insignificant,  and  by  genius  and  skill  transmuted  them 
into  gold.1' 


282 


PUBLIC  SPEAKING. 


Edmund  Burke  was  one  of  the  worlds  great  orators, 
and  ranks  with  Demosthenes  in  the  elements  of  the 
highest  oratory.  He  was  a  man  of  wonderful  erudi- 
tion, and  had  the  tact  and  skill  to  so  use  his  learning 
as  to  make  his  speeches  worthy  to  be  classed  among 
the  most  finished  models  of  excellence. 

Macaulay,  in  his  matchless  essay  on  Warren  Hast- 
ings, thus  speaks  of  Burke,  and  depicts  in  glowing 
language  one  of  the  secrets  of  his  wonderful  power: 
"  Burke  had,  in  the  highest  degree,  that  noble  faculty 
whereby  man  is  able  to  live  in  the  past  and  in  the 
future,  in  the  distant  and  in  the  unreal.  In  every  part 
of  those  huge  bales  of  Indian  information,  which  re- 
pelled" almost  all  other  readers,  his  mind,  at  once  phi- 
losophical and  poetical,  found  something  to  instruct  or 
to  delight.  H^  reason  analyzed  and  digested  those 
vast  and  shapeless  masses;  his  imagination  animated 
and  colored  them.  Out  of  darkness,  dullness  and  con- 
fusion, he  drew  a  rich  abundance  of  ingenious  theories 
and  vivid  pictures. 

George  Whitefield,  whose  extraordinary  eloquence 
would  hold  spell-bound  immense  out-door  audiences, 
sometimes  numbering  twenty  thousand  people,  repre- 
senting all  classes  and  conditions  of  society,  from  beg- 
gars to  the  highest  nobility,  made  use  of  everything 
which  his  ingenuity  and  industry  could  produce,  to 
make  his  efforts  powerful  and  effective. 

Phillips,  the  famous  Irish  orator,  thus  alludes  to 
some  of  the  characteristics  which  partly  formed  the 


PUBLIC  SPEAKING. 


283 


secret  of  his  wonderful  power:  "  Whitefield  under- 
stood the  power  of  illustration.  He  ever  kept  the 
volume  of  nature  before  him,  delighting  to  unfold  its 
magnificent  pages.  The  ocean,  the  thunder  storms, 
the  bow  encircling  the  heavens,  furnished  him  with 
themes  to  illustrate  his  subject;  or  a  trial,  or  a  pilot 
fish,  or  a  furnace — in  fact,  anything  and  everything, 
whether  magnificently  grand,  or  ever  so  insignificant, 
he  made  subservient  to  his  oratorical  powers.  His 
eloquence  reminded  one  of  the  ocean,  adding,  as  it 
does,  to  its  own  boundlesness,  contributions  from  every 
part  of  the  universe.  Well  has  it  been  said  that  he  k  ran- 
sacked creation  for  figures,  time  for  facts,  heaven  for  mo- 
tives, hell  for  warnings,  and  eternity  for  arguments/  11 
The  late  Dr.  Guthrie,  of  Edinburgh,  one  of  the 
most  fascinating  pulpit  orators  of  his  day,  once  related 
to  Newman  Hall,  how  in  early  life  he  had  begun  a 
habit  which  he  doubtless  considered  had  contributed 
much  to  his  success.  He  said:  "  When  I  was  in  my 
first  parish,  I  used  to  have  a  class  of  young  pupils 
whom  I  questioned  about  my  sermons.  Thus  I  learned 
what  parts  were  best  remembered,  and  I  found  that 
they  had  always  remembered  best  the  parts  that  had 
illustrations.  So  I  resolved  never  to  shoot  off  an  arrow 
without  winging  it.'1  The  orator  must  understand 
human  nature  ;  he  must  have  the  tact  to  adapt  himself 
to  his  audiences,  and  to  employ  such  arguments  and 
illustrations  as  will  best  engage  their  attention,  and 
reach  their  understanding. 


284 


PUBLIC  SPEAKING. 


The  celebrated  Lord  Cockburn  practiced  the  follow- 
ing method  of  addressing  a  jury.  He  said:  "  I  invari- 
ably pick  out  the  stupidest  fellow  of  the  lot,  and  ad- 
dress myself  especially  to  him,  for  this  good  reason:  I 
know  that  if  I  convince  him,  I  would  be  sure  to  carry 
all  the  rest.'"  This  plan  might  be  adopted  to  some 
extent  by  every  speaker,  for  if  the  stolid  and  indiffer- 
ent in  an  audience  can  be  interested  and  convinced,  it 
is  fair  to  assume  that  all  others  would  be  effectively 
reached. 

The  great  orator  must  not  only  possess  a  copious 
command  of  language,  a  good  delivery,  a  perfect 
knowledge  of  his  subject,  wide  and  varied  learning 
from  which  to  illustrate  and  adorn  his  theme,  and  tact 
to  understand  and  manage  his  audiences,  but  he  must 
also  have  the  fire  which  will  fuse  all  these  qualities  to- 
gether and  make  them  irresistible. 

Said  a  writer  who  often  heard  Daniel  Webster  in 
his  palmiest  days :  "  I  have  seen  him  when  every 
nerve  was  quivering  with  excitement,  when  his 
gestures  were  most  violent,  when  he  was  shouting  at 
the  top  of  his  clarion  voice,  when  the  lightnings  of 
passion  were  playing  across  his  dark  face  as  upon  a 
thunder  cloud."  The  impassioned  fervor  which  can 
thus  call  into  action  the  utmost  powers  of  mind  and 
body,  comes  from  having  the  mind  so  completely  ab- 
sorbed and  surcharged  with  the  subject  and  occasion, 
as  to  be  wrought  to  its  utmost  tension.  This  is  largely 
the  result  of  careful  and  thorough  preparation. 


PUBLIC  SPEAKING.  285 

When  Webster  made  that  marvelous  reply  to  Hayne, 
— the  greatest  of  all  his  speeches, — instead  of  being 
due  to  the  inspiration  of  the  occasion,  as  the  world  sup- 
posed, it  was  a  consequence  of  the  most  elaborate 
preparation.  Webster  said,  in  the  closing  part  of  his 
life:  "  No  man  is  inspired  with  the  occasion;  I  never 
was."  It  was  said  of  Rums  Choate,  by  his  biographer, 
that  "  Like  Clay,  Grattan,  Chatham  and  Curran,  he 
trusted  to  no  native  gifts  of  eloquence.  He  practiced 
eloquence  every  day  for  forty  years.  He  would  take 
some  approved  author,  and  utter  a  page,  aloud,  but 
not  noisily, — struggling  to  accomplish  two  things, — 
to  get  the  feeling,  and  to  express  it  passionately;"  and 
he  adds,  that  for  this  purpose  he  chose  the  works  of 
Edmund  Burke.  Burke,  who  was  one  of  the  best 
judges  on  this  subject,  said  of  Mr.  Fox:  "It  was  by 
slow  degrees  that  he  became  the  most  brilliant  and 
powerful  debater  that  parliament  ever  saw,"  and  Fox 
himself  attributed  his  success  to  his  habitual  practice 
in  speaking,  and  said,  that  "  during  five  whole  sessions 
I  spoke  every  night  but  one."  Plutarch  states  that 
Cicero,  in  the  early  part  of  his  life,  "  suffered  not  a  day 
to  pass  without  either  declaiming  or  attending  the 
most  celebrated  orators." 

These  instances  show  that  these  illustrious  masters 
of  eloquence  acquired  their  great  perfection  by  long- 
continued  and  assiduous  cultivation  of  their  natural 
gifts.  In  this,  as  in  everything  else,  it  is  practice  that 
makes  perfect,  and  nothing  else  will  take  its  place.  It 


286  PUBLIC  SPEAKING. 

* 

is  as  impracticable  to  learn  to  speak  without  practice, 
as  to  learn  to  swim  without  water ;  and  one  has  gained 
a  great  advantage  when  he  has  acquired  the  confidence 
and  resolution  to  speak  at  every  favorable  opportunity. 
The  great  majority  fail,  because  they  have  not  the 
courage  to  make  repeated  attempts. 

It  requires  a  strong  will  for  a  young  speaker  to  con- 
quer his  timidity,  calm  his  fears,  and  to  attempt  to 
speak  before  men  who  are  more  experienced  than  him- 
self. But  this  will-power  must  be  cultivated  and  ex- 
ercised continually,  for  even  many  of  the  greatest 
orators,  after  years  of  practice,  have  confessed  that  the 
fear  and  timidity  which  they  experienced  before  speak- 
ing, never  forsook  them.  It  is  said  that  Cicero  began 
his  speeches  with  trembling,  which  scarcely  left  him 
even  when  he  got  thoroughly  into  the  current  and  sub- 
stance of  his  speech.  The  bold  and  jovial  Luther  said 
that  he  could  never  enter  the  pulpit  without  fear. 
The  late  Lord  Derby,  who  was  called  "  The  Rupert  of 
debate,"  said  that  his  principal  speeches  cost  him  two 
sleepless  nights, — one  in  which  he  was  thinking  what 
to  say,  the  other  in  which  he  was  lamenting  what  he 
might  have  said  better. 

Sir  William  Follett,  a  celebrated  English  advocate, 
was  once  congratulated  on  his  perfect  composure  be- 
fore trying  an  important  case.  His  -answer  was  to 
ask  his  friend  to  feel  his  hand,  which  was  wet  with  the 
nervousness  of  anxiety.  It  is  generally  only  the  flip- 
pant who  are  free  from  timidity. 


PUBLIC  SPEAKING. 


28/ 


When  the  famous  George  Canning  was  Prime  Min- 
ister of  England,  and  was  about  to  speak,  a  friend  said 
to  him:  "Why!  how  nervous  you  are!"  "Am  I?" 
was  the  reply,  lt  then  I  shall  make  a  good  speech/1 

When  the  late  Salmon  P.  Chase  was  a  young  law- 
yer, on  attempting  to  make  his  first  argument  in  the 
United  States  Court  in  an  important  case,  he  was  so 
agitated  that  he  could  not  utter  a  word.  He  sat  down, 
and  in  a  few  moments  recovered  himself,  and  made 
his  plea.  On  its  close,  one  of  the  judges  came  and 
shook  hands,  and  congratulated  him.  Chase,  who 
was  nettled  at  his  failure  to  speak  at  first,  asked  in 
surprise  what  he  was  congratulated  for.  "  On  your 
failure/1  replied  the  judge;  and  he  added:  "A  per- 
son of  ordinary  temperament  and  abilities  would 
have  gone  through  his  part  without  any  such  symp- 
toms of  nervousness,  but  when  I  see  a  young  man 
break  down  once  or  twice  in  that  way,  I  conceive  the 
highest  hopes  of  him.11  The  future  career  of  the 
young  lawyer  proved  that  the  judge's  knowledge  of 
human  nature  was  accurate. 

It  is  well  to  acquire  the  habit  of  using  simple,  short 
words  as  much  as  possible,  and  making  the  language 
plain,  direct  and  forcible.  Many  make  the  mistake  of 
stringing  together  high-sounding  words  and  phrases, 
which  have  but  a  vague  meaning,  and  are  often  en- 
tirely beyond  the  comprehension  of  many  hearers,  and 
are  thus  utterly  lost.  A  man,  in  addressing  a  school, 
used  the  word  "  abridgement,11  but,  thinking  that  some 


288 


PUBLIC  SPEAKING. 


of  the  younger  children  might  not  understand  what  it 
meant,  he  explained  that  "abridgement  "  was  a  syno- 
nym of  u  epitome.'1 

Spurgeon  said  of  high-sounding  preachers,  "  that 
they  must  have  understood  the  Lord  to  say,  '  Feed  my 
camelopards,1  instead  of  '  Feed  my  lambs,'  for  noth- 
ing but  giraffes  could  reach  any  spiritual  food  from 
the  lofty  rack  on  which  they  place  it." 

The  first  requisite  in  speaking  is  to  make  the  thought 
expressed,  clear  and  apparent ;  failing  in  this,  all  figures 
of  speech  and  rhetorical  flourishes  are  worthless.  All 
rhetoric  that  obscures  the  meaning  of  the  speaker,  or 
even  makes  it  less  forcible,  is  a  serious  defect,  however 
beautiful  and  ornate  the  style  may  be. 

An  eminent  minister  said  that  his  style  of  preaching 
was  moulded  through  life  by  a  single  criticism.  When 
a  young  man,  he  read  a  paper,  exuberant  with  rhetoric, 
to  his  tutor.  "Joel,"  said  the  wise  man,  "  I  kept 
school  once.  When  I  whipped  the  boys,  I  always 
stripped  the  leaves  off  the  rod,"  drawing  an  imaginary 
rod  through  his  fingers.  This  apt  and  forcible  illus- 
tration entirely  cured  him  of  a  tendency  to  burden  his 
style  with  the  excessive  use  of  rhetorical  embellish- 
ment. 

Another  mistake  often  made  is  that  of  speaking  too 
long, — of  being  so  diffuse  that  the  leading  thoughts 
are  lost  in  a  multitude  of  words,  and  nothing  remains 
clearly  defined  in  the  memory.  It  is  said  that  three  of 
the  most  influential  members  of  the  Congress  which 


PUBLIC  SPEAKING. 


289 


framed  our  national  Constitution  never  made  a  speech 
more  than  twenty  minutes  long,  in  all  the  protracted 
and  exciting  debates  of  that  illustrious  convention. 

Alexander  Hamilton,  perhaps  the  greatest  lawyer 
of  his  day,  reckoned  that  a  diffuse  speaker,  in  the  long- 
est argument  in  a  trial,  would  not  occupy  more  than 
two  hours  and  a  half,  and  his  rival,  Aaron  Burr,  sel- 
dom occupied  more  than  an  hour  and  a  quarter  in  the 
most  intricate  cases,  while  many  of  their  most  im- 
portant causes  were  disposed  of  in  half  an  hour. 

"  Let  your  speeches  be  short,  that  the  remembrance 
of  them  may  be  long,"  said  Confucius,  and  there  is 
sound  philosophy  in  the  maxim.  But  it  is  by  practice 
alone  that  a  good  speaker  can  be  made,  and  no  system 
of  mere  study  or  of  theory  can  supply  its  place. 


<9HE  liAWYBP?. 


^51fr^  OME  }7ears  ago,  it  was  ascertained  that  of 
Jjk^S)  the  seventy-six  members  of  the  United 
)^^T  States  Senate,  fifty  were  practicing  lawyers; 
^  also  that  their  profession  furnished  the  heads 
of  most  of  the  government  departments.  Lawyers, 
therefore,  rule  the  country.  It  speaks  well  for  a  pro- 
fession that  can,  to  such  an  extent,  so  command  the 
respect  and  confidence  of  the  people.  It  may  safely 
be  assumed  that  most  of  these  were  successful  in  their 
profession,  and  the  question  naturally  arises,  What 
were  the  causes  of  their  success? 

To  young  men  entering  professional  life,  this  is  a 
most  momentous  inquiry.  Every  place  seems  to  be 
already  filled  by  those  who  have  experience  and  social 
prestige,  and  their  hearts  sink  with  heaviness  and  dis- 
couragement. J.  G.  Holland  has  left  for  such  these 
words  of  advice  and  encouragement: 

"  It  is  well,  first,  that  all  young  men  remember,  that 
nothing  will  do  them  so  much  injury  as  quick  and 
easy  success,  and  that  nothing  will  do  them  so  much 
good  as  a  struggle  which  teaches  them  exactly  what 
is  in  them,  educates  them  gradually  to  its  use,  instructs 
them  in  personal  economy,  drills  them  into  a  patient 

and  persistent  habit  of  work,  and  keeps  them  at  the 

290 


THE  LAWYER. 


29I 


foot  of  the  ladder  until  they  become  strong  enough  to 
hold  every  step  they  are  enabled  to  gain.  The  first 
years  of  every  man's  business  or  professional  life  are 
years  of  education.  They  are  intended  to  be.  in  the 
order  of  nature  and  providence.  Doors  do  not  open 
to  a  man  until  he  is  prepared  to  enter  them.  The 
man  without  a  wedding  garment  may  get  in  surrep- 
titiously, but  he  immediately  goes  out  with  a  rlea  in 
his  ear.  'We  think  it  is  the  experience  of  most  suc- 
cessful men,  who  have  watched  the  course  of  their 
lives  in  retrospect,  that  whenever  they  have  arrived  at 
a  point  where  they  were  thoroughly  prepared  to  go  up 
higher,  the  door  to  a  higher  place  has  swung  back  of 
itself,  and  they  have  heard  the  call  to  enter.  The  old 
die,  or  voluntarily  retire  for  rest.  The  best  men  who 
stand  ready  to  take  their  places  will  succeed  to  their 
position  and  its  honors  and  emoluments. 

"  It  is  related  of  Webster,  that  when  a  young  law- 
yer suggested  to  him  that  the  profession  to  which 
he  had  devoted  himself  was  over-crowded,  the  great 
man  replied :  b  Young  man,  there  is  always  room 
enough  at  the  top.1  Never  was  a  wiser  or  more  sug- 
gestive word  said. .  There  undoubtedly  is  always  room 
enough  where  excellence  lives.  Webster  was  not 
troubled  for  lack  of  room.  Neither  Clay  nor  Cal- 
houn were  ever  crowded. 

"  The  young  men  will  say  that  only  a  few  can  reach 
the  top.  That  is  true;  but  it  is  also  true,  that  the 
further  from  the  bottom  one  goes,  the  more  scattering 


292 


THE  LAWYER. 


the  neighborhood.  One  can  fancy,  for  illustration,  that 
every  profession  and  every  calling  is  pyramidal  in  its 
living  constituency,  and  that,  while  only  one  man  is  at 
the  top,  there  are  several  tiers  of  men  below  him  who 
have  plenty  of  elbow  room,  and  that  it  is  only  at  the 
base  that  men  are  so  thick  that  they  pick  the  meat 
out  of  one  another's  teeth  to  keep  them  from  starving. 
If  a  man  has  no  power  to  get  out  of  the  rabble  at  the 
bottom,  then  he  is  self-convicted  of  having  chosen  a 
calling  or  profession  to  whose  duties  he  has  no  adapta- 
tion. 

"  The  grand  mistake  that  young  men  make,  during 
the  first  ten  years  of  their  business  and  professional 
life,  is  in  idly  waiting  for  their  chance.  They  seem 
to  forget,  or  they  do  not  know,  that  during  those  ten 
years  they  enjoy  the  only  leisure  they  will  ever  have. 
After  ten  years,  in  the  natural  course  of  things,  they 
will  be  absorbingly  busy.  There  will  then  be  no  time 
for  reading,  culture  and  study.  If  they  do  not  become 
thoroughly  grounded  in  the  principles  and  practical 
details  of  their  profession  during  those  years;  if  they 
do  not  store  their  minds  with  useful  knowledge;  if 
they  do  not  pursue  habits  of  reading  and  observation, 
and  social  intercourse,  which  result  in  culture,  the 
question  whether  they  will  ever  rise  to  occupy  a  place 
where  there  is  room  enough  for  them  will  be  decided 
in  the  negative.  The  young  physicians,  and  the  young- 
lawyers,  who  sit  idly  in  their  offices,  and  smoke  and 
lounge  away  the  time,  '  waiting  for  something  to  turn 


THE  LAWYER.  293 

up,'  are  by  that  course  fastening  themselves  for  life  to 
the  lower  stratum,  where  their  struggle  for  a  bare 
livelihood  is  to  be  perpetual.  The  first  ten  years  are 
golden  years,  that  should  be  filled  with  systematic 
reading  and  observation.  Everything  that  tends  to 
professional  and  personal  excellence,  should  be  an  ob- 
ject of  daily  pursuit.  To  such  men  the  doors  of  suc- 
cess open  of  themselves  at  last.  Work  seeks  the  best 
hands  as  naturally  as  water  runs  down  hill;  and  it 
never  seeks  the  hands  of  a  trifler,  or  of  one  whose  only 
recommendation  for  work  is  that  he  needs  it.  Young 
men  do  not  know  very  much,  anyway,  and  the  time 
always  comes,  to  those  who  become  worthy,  when 
they  look  back  with  wonder  upon  their  early  good 
opinion  of  their  acquirements  and  themselves." 

It  is  interesting  and  valuable  to  catch  the  spirit  of 
some  who  have  stood  in  the  front  rank  of  the  world's 
greatest  advocates.  It  has  been  remarked,  that  the 
persons  who  have  reached  the  highest  eminence  in  the 
law  were  at  first  dissatisfied  with  it.  But.  however 
this  may  be,  at  the  close  of  their  career  they  came  to 
have  an  intense  love  for  their  profession.  Said  Rufus 
Choate  of  the  law:  "  There's  nothing-  else  to  like  in  all 

CD 

the  world." 

Edmund  Burke  declared:  "Law,  m  my  opinion,  is 
one  of  the  first  and  noblest  of  human  sciences,  which 
does  more  to  quicken  and  invigorate  the  understanding 
than  all  the  other  kinds  of  learning  put  together. " 

All  these  men  were  laborious  in  their  methods. 


294 


THE  LAWYER. 


"  To  be  a  successful  lawyer,1'  said  Lord  Eldon,  "  a  man 
must  live  like  a  hermit,  and  work  like  a  horse." 

Daniel  Webster  told  William  Pitt  Fessenden,  that 
u  when  he  began  to  practice  law,  he  never  let  a  legal 
document  pass  out  of  his  hands  without  reading  it  three 
times,  at  least,  that  all  his  fine  figures  and  sentences 
were  carefully  studied,  and  that  he  studied  hard  while 
other  young  men  slept." 

Rums  Choate  searched  among  literature  for  words 
and  illustrations  to  make  effective  his  matchless  oratory. 
His  biographer  says:  "Literature  to  Choate  was  of 
direct  service  in  a  double  way.  It  quickened  his  fancy 
and  ingenuity,  and  enlarged  his  mind  without  taking 
away  from  him  the  power  to  narrow  down  its  propor- 
tions again  to  legal  dimensions,  and  was  also  of  essen- 
tial service  as  a  mental  relaxation  and  pastime.''' 

He  gave  this  advice  to  young  lawyers:  "  If  you  lan- 
guish in  the  pursuit  of  the  law,  read  Quint ilian  and 
Cicero  and  enthusiastic  legal  writers."  And  earnestly 
recommended  them  to  this  practice:  "  Take  a  reported 
case,  read  the  marginal  statement  and  get  the  facts, 
shut  the  book  and  study  out  what  should  be  the  law, 
write  out  the  decision,  and  then  compare  with  the  deci- 
sion of  the  court.  This  to  improve  powers  of  reasoning," 

Said  Coke,  one  of  the  greatest  legal  minds  that  ever 
lived:  "  There  is  no  knowledge,  case,  or  point  in  law, 
seem  it  of  never  so  little  account,  but  will  stand  the 
student  in  stead  one  time  or  another." 

Tact,  and  a  profound  knowledge  of  human  nature, 


THE  LAWYER. 


295 


are  essential  to  the  successful  lawyer.  A  rough  man 
extinguished  Choate,  after  a  long  and  dizzy  speech,  by 
saying  it  was  "  altogether  too  big  a  box  for  so  small  a 
calf." 

A  judge  of  a  superior  court  said,  that  when  he  plead 
before  a  jury  he  expected  to  turn  over  and  repeat  his 
main  points  about  as  often  as  there  were  men  m  it,  so 
that  they  would  have  a  clear  comprehension  of  them. 

Sir  James  Scarlet,  when  asked  the  secret  of  his 
success  as  an  advocate,  said  that  he  took  care  to  press 
home  the  one  principal  point  in  the  case  without  much 
regard  to  others.  He  knew  the  secret  of  being  short. 
I  find,  said  he,  that  when  I  exceed  half  an  hour  I  am 
always  doing  mischief  to  my  client.  If  I  drive  into  the 
heads  of  the  jury  an  important  matter,  I  drive  out 
matter  more  important  I  had  previously  lodged  there. 

An  eminent  judge  used  to  relate  this  anecdote  of 
Justice  Parsons :  "  When  Parsons  was  a  young  lawyer, 
he  was  retained  to  argue  an  important  case  in  a  Maine 
court.  He  was  unknown  to  the  people,  and  even  to 
the  lawyers.  The  judge  had  heard  of  him  as  a  rising- 
man,  and  was  drawn  to  the  court-room  by  curiosity  to 
learn  the  secret  of  his  power.  Parsons  began  his  plea 
by  putting  one  foot  in  a  chair ;  then,  leaning  one  elbow 
on  his  knee,  he  talked  to  the  jury  as  a  man  would  tell 
a  story  at  his  fireside.  1  Pretty  soon  I  thought  I  under- 
stood him,1  said  the  judge.  '  He  was  winding  the  jury 
round  his  fingers.  He  made  no  show.  He  treated 
the  case  as  if  it  were  a  very  simple  affair,  of  which  the 


296 


THE  LAWYER. 


conclusion  was  obvious  and  inevitable;  and  he  did  not 
talk  long.  He  got  a  verdict  at  once;  and  after  the 
jury  were  dismissed,  one  of  them,  whom  I  happened 
to  know,  came  to  me  and  said:  "  Who  is  this  Mr. 
Parsons?  He  isn't  much  of  a  lawyer,  and  don't  talk 
or  look  as  if  he  ever  would  be  one;  but  he  seems  to 
be  a  real  good  sort  of  a  man.1' 

"  Monsieur  Chaix  d'Est  Ange  was  one  of  the  greatest 
lawyers  of  France,  and  one  of  the  greatest  triumphs 
ever  obtained  at  any  bar,  was  achieved  in  the  case  of 
a  man  called  Benoit,  whom  he  was  prosecuting  for  par- 
ricide. Benoit  had  all  along  persisted  in  declaring  he 
was  innocent,  and  there  was  nothing  but  circumstantial 
evidence  against  him.  M.  Chaix  d'Est  Ange  resolved 
to  employ  one  of  the  most  startling  and  dramatic 
figures  of  rhetoric  ever  used  in  a  court  of  law.  Turn 
ing  to  the  prisoner,  he  placed  the  scene  of  the  murder 
in  vivid  and  striking  language  before  him.  '  There,' 
he  cried,  '  sat  your  father,  quietly  reading  the  news- 
paper, near  the  window.  He  could  not  see  who  came 
into  the  room.  You  stole  in  on  tiptoe  and  crept  close 
behind  him.  You  paused  one  moment  and  then  raised 
the  hatchet' —  '  Yes,  yes!'  cried  Benoit,  'that's  it; 
that's  how  I  did  it!'  What  the  repeated  interroga- 
tories of  the  examining  magistrates  had  failed  to  elicit 
from  the  murderer,  was  forced  from  him  by  the  elo- 
quence of  the  barrister." 

One  of  the  strongest  qualifications  of  a  good  lawyer 
is  integrity,  for  that  is  as  much  a  part  of  his  working 


THE  LAWYER 


297 


capital  as  his  professional  skill,  and  without  it  he  is 
but  half  equipped  for  his  work.  The  greatest  trusts 
in  the  world  are  held  by  lawyers,  and  it  is  to  the  credit 
of  the  profession,  that  there  are  a  larger  proportion  of 
them  capable  of  exercising  important  trusts  with  abso- 
lute integrity,  than  in  any  other  class  of  business  or 
professional  men.  This  comes  in  large  part  from  their 
training  and  discipline,  a  part  of  which  is  to  define 
rights  with  nice  discrimination  and  absolute  impar- 
tiality. 

The  lawyer  must  be  devoted  to  his  profession.  The 
law  has  been,  called  "  a  jealous  mistress,"  and  it  re- 
quires the  absorption  of  all  the  forces  of  mind  and 
body,  and  a  steady  purpose,  to  succeed. 

Lord  Erskine,  early  in  his  career,  wrote  these  words 
to  a  friend  who  sought  to  persuade  him  to  seek  honors 
in  parliament  rather  than  in  the  law;  4k  Keep,  then,  the 
path."  he  says.  "  That  means  the  path  which  leads  to 
where  one  is  going.  Keep  the  path,  i.  e.,  be  steady  in 
your  exertions,  read  your  briefs  thoroughly,  let  your 
arguments  be  learned  and  your  speech  to  juries  be  ani- 
mated. There  is  no  advantage  in  keeping  the  path, 
except  it  be  the  right  one.  I  am  in  the  path,  and 
mean  to  keep  it.  To  a  grave  lawyer  like  me  W est- 
minster  Hall  is  the  only  path  to  greatness." 

Another  distinguishing  trait  of  the  legal  profession 
has  been  their  fairness  and  love  of  justice. 

Samuel  J.  Tildensaid  of  O'Connor,  the  distinguished 
advocate,  kk  that  during  his  fifty  years'  practice,  he 


298 


THE  LAWYER. 


was  never  known  to  misstate  facts  or  present  unsound 
propositions  of  law,"  and  in  saying  that,  he  pronounced 
an  encomium  on  his  distinguished  friend  more  effective 
than  could  be  contained  in  volumes  of  panegyrics. 

A  former  client  of  Abraham  Lincoln  said  no  one 
could  consult  him  on  professional  business  without  being 
impressed  with  his  absolute  honesty  and  love  of  the 
right,  and  especially  was  this  noticeable  in  his  con- 
scientious scruples  in  charging  moderate  fees.  These 
expressions  and  characteristics  of  some  of  the  greatest 
names  in  jurisprudence,  though  few,  are  yet  suggestive, 
and  show  in  a  measure  some  of  the  elements  of  their 
success.  But  the  basis  of  the  fame  of  ever)'  great 
lawyer  is  character, — without  that  he  may  be  brilliant 
and  learned,  but  he  will  fall  short  of  a  high  place  in 
his  profession. 


<9HE  E?^EAGHEI^. 


!EV.  JOSEPH  PARKER,  of  London,  one 
of  the  most  original  preachers  of  this  age, 
has  made  this  criticism:  "  Preaching  to-da}T 
is  often  a  sublime  flight  in  the  air,  in  the 
exciting  progress  of  which  the  contestants  strike  at 
nothing,  and  hit  it  with  magnificent  precision." 

Notwithstanding  this  scathing  remark,  it  may  be 
truthfully  said,  that  preachers  were  never  abreast  of 
the  times  more  than  at  the  present  day.  Never  has 
there  been  more  careful  and  systematic  preparation  for 
the  sacred  office  than  in  these  .modern  days.  Dr. 
William  M.  Taylor,  of  New  York,  himself  one  of  the 
ablest  divines  of  this  generation,  has  given  as  the  re- 
sult of  his  experience  and  observation,  these  invaluable 
hints  among  others,  on  the  preparation  of  the  preacher. 

First.  The  study  of  the  works  of  standard  authors, 
which  should  include  Shakespeare,  Milton,  Gibbon, 
Macaulay,  Motley,  Locke,  Reid,  Hamilton,  Mill, 
Butler,  Edwards  and  Chalmers. 

Second.  The  free  and  constant  use  of  the  pen  in 
original  composition. 

Third.    The  limited  use  of  adjectives. 
Fourth.  The  cultivation  of  elocution,  and  an  earnest 
delivery. 

299 


3oo 


THE  PREACHER. 


Fifth.  The  use  of  common  sense,  and  a  perception 
of  the  fitness  of  things;  and  sums  up  his  suggestions  in 
these  words: 

"  Finally,  let  all  your  abilities,  natural  and  acquired, 
be  vitalized  by  your  devotion  to  the  Master.  The 
question  is  not,  "  Lovest  thou  the  work?" but,  "  Lovest 
thou  me?"  Such  love  will  consecrate  the  whole  man, 
and  make  him  all  magnetic.  One  of  the  most  effective 
features  in  preaching  is  simplicity." 

Arthur  Helps  tells  a  story  of  an  illiterate  soldier  at  the 
chapel  of  Lord  Morpeth's  castle  in  Ireland.  Whenever 
Archbishop  Whately  came  to  preach,  it  was  observed 
that  this  rough  private  was  always  in  his  place,  mouth 
open,  as  if  in  sympathy  with  his  ears.  Some  of  the 
gentlemen  playfully  took  him  to  task  for  it,  supposing 
it  was  due  to  the  usual  vulgar  admiration  of  a  celebrity. 
But  the  man  had  a  better  reason,  and  was  able  to  give 
it.  He  said,  "That  isn't  it  at  all.  The  Archbishop  is 
easy  to  understand.  There  are  no  fine  words  in  him. 
A  fellow  like  me,  now,  can  follow  along  and  take  every 
bit  of  it  in." 

An  old  church  member  made  this  remark  to  his 
pastor:  u  I  dinna  ken  a  part  of  your  sermon  yesterday. 
You  said  the  Apostle  used  the  figure  of  circumlocution, 
and  I  dinna  ken  what  it  means."  "Is  that  all,"  said 
the  minister,  u  It's  very  plain.  The  figure  of  circum- 
locution is  merely  a  periphrastic  mode  of  diction." 
"Oh,  is  that  all!  What  a  puir  fool  I  was  not  to 
understand  that." 


THE  PREACHER. 


301 


The  following  description  by  Dr.  Hanna,  of  the 
manner  and  style  of  Dr.  Guthrie,  the  stalwart  and  elo- 
quent Scotch  preacher,  is  more  suggestive  than  any 
set  rules.  He  says:  "No  discourses  ever  delivered 
from  the  pulpit  had  more  the  appearance  of  extem- 
pore addresses.  None  were  ever  more  carefully 
thought  over,  more  completely  written  out  beforehand, 
or  more  accurately  committed  to  memory.  If  ever 
there  was  any  one  who  might  have  trusted  to  the  spur 
of  the  moment  for  the  words  to  be  employed,  it  was 
he.  No  readier  speaker  ever  stepped  upon  a  platform; 
but  such  was  his  deep  sense  of  the  sacredness  of  the 
pulpit,  and  the  importance  of  weighing  well  every  word 
that  should  proceed  from  it,  that  he  never  trusted  to  a 
passing  impulse  to  mold  even  a  single  phrase.  Yet  in 
the  manuscript  there  were  often  phrases,  sentences, 
illustrations,  that  one  on  hearing  them  could  scarcely 
believe  to  have  been  other  than  the  suggestion  of  the 
moment,  linking  themselves,  as  apparently  they  did, 
with  something  that  was  then  immediately  before  the 
speaker's  eye.  The  explanation  of  this  lay  in  the 
power  (possessed  in  any  considerable  degree  by  but 
few,  possessed  by  him  in  perfect  measure)  of  writing 
as  if  a  large  audience  were  around  him;  writing  as  if 
speaking ;  realizing  the  presence  of  a  crowd  before  him, 
and  having  that  presence  as  a  continual  stimulus  to 
thought  and  a  constant  molder  of  expression.  The  dif- 
ference, in  fact,  that  there  almost  invariably  is  between 
written  and  spoken  address,  was  by  his  vivid  imagina- 


302 


THE  PREACHER. 


tion  and  quick  sympathies  reduced  to  a  minimum,  if 
not  wholly  obliterated.  Herein  lay  one  secret  of  his 
great  power  as  a  preacher. 

u  Another  lay  in  the  peculiar  character  of  the  imagery 
and  illustrations  of  which  he  made  such  copious  use. 
It  has  been  remarked  by  all  who  have  passed  a  critical 
judgment  of  any  value  upon  his  attributes  as  a  preacher, 
that  his  chief,  if  not  exclusive,  instrument  of  power  was 
illustration.  In  listening  to  him,  scenes  and  images 
passed  in  almost  unbroken  succession  before  the  eye; 
always  apposite,  often  singularly  picturesque  and 
graphic;  frequently  most  tenderly  pathetic.  But  it 
was  neither  their  number  nor  their  variety  which  ex- 
plained the  fact  that  they  were  all  and  so  universally 
effective.  It  was  the  common  character  they  possessed 
of  being  perfectly  plain  and  simple,  drawn  from 
quarters  with  which  all  were  familiar;  few  of  them 
from  books,  none  of  them  from  1  the  depths  of  the 
inner  consciousness,'  supplied  by  ingenious  mental 
analysis;  almost  all  of  them  taken  from  sights  of 
nature  or  incidents  of  human  life : — the  sea,  the  storm, 
the  shipwreck,  the  beacon-light,  the  life-boat ;  the  family 
wrapped  in  sleep,  the  midnight  conflagration,  the  child 
at  the  window  above,  a  parent's  arms  held  up  below, 
and  the  child  told  to  leap  and  trust.  There  was  much 
of  true  poetry  in  the  series  of  images  so  presented;  but 
it  was  poetry  of  a  kind  that  needed  no  interpreter,  re- 
quired no  effort  either  to  understand  or  appreciate; 
which  appealed  directly  to  the  eye  and  the  heart  of 


THE  PREACHER. 


303 


our  common  humanity:  of  which  all  kinds  and  classes 
of  people,  and  that  almost  equally,  saw  the  beauty  and 
felt  the  power.'1 

Dr.  Guthrie,  visiting  an  artist's  studio,  ventured  to 
criticise  an  unfinished  picture.  The  artist,  with  some 
little  warmth,  remarked,  "Dr.  Guthrie,  remember  you 
are  a  preacher,  not  a  painter."  "Beg  your  pardon,  my 
good  friend."  replied  the  clergyman:  "  I  am  a  painter: 
only  I  paint  in  words,  while  you  use  brush  and  col- 
ors."' 

The  manner  and  arrangement  of  presenting  truth, 
has  its  place  in  successful  preaching,  but  nothing  can 
take  the  place  of  the  theme.  The  pulpit  is  not  a  pro- 
fessor's chair,  nor  a  poet's  corner,  nor  merely  a  lookout 
place  for  wise  and  instructive  observations  on  science, 
society,  human  achievement,  or  worldly  success :  but 
a  place  consecrated  for  the  presentation  of  the  great 
truths  according  to  the  Bible:  and  if  it  falls  short  of 
this,  it  is  a  failure.  The  strong  hold  which  the  ser- 
mons of  D.  L.  Moody  have  taken  upon  the  world,  is 
due  to  the  fact  that  he  has  preached  on  the  great 
•essential  truths  of  the  Christian  religion.  A  clergy- 
man m  a  village  on  the  seashore,  who  found  his  con- 
gregation rapidly  diminishing,  asked  an  old  Scotch 
sailor  why  the  people  did  not  come  to  church.  The 
Scotchman  thus  replied:  {<  I  carina  exactly  tell,  111011: 
ye  preached  on  spring  and  autumn  most  beautiful  dis- 
courses, and  ye  improved  the  great  accident  and  loss 
of  life  on  the  Sound:  ye  might  try  them  with  some- 


3°4 


THE  PREACHER. 


thing  out  of  the  Bible,  and  being  fresh,  maybe  it  would 
hold  them  another  Sunday  or  two." 

The  successful  preacher  must  come  into  close 
contact  with  the  people.  He  must  cultivate  and  use 
his  social  powers  to  first  make  friends  of  those  whom 
he  would  save.  A  religious  writer  has  truly  said: 
"  Sinners  will  not  be  converted  while  they  are  kept  at 
arm's  length.  The  faithful  shepherd  calleth  his  own 
sheep  by  name.  The  measure  of  the  church  and  the 
ministry's  power  over  men,  is  in  general  exactly  pro- 
portioned to  their  degree  of  personal  contact  with 
them.  It  is  not  enough  to  harangue  them.  We  can 
hardly  call  that  preaching  which  springs  from  an  am- 
bition to  address  them  in  a  mass,  dissevered  from  an 
interest  in  them  in  detail  and  as  individuals.  True 
preaching,  evangelical  preaching,  finds  its  themes  and 
draws  its  directness  and  point  from  pastoral  observa- 
tion, and  then  carries  the  preacher',  with  fresh  impulse, 
back  to  the  sphere  of  personal  labor  again.  Evan- 
gelical preaching  is  the  distant  artillery  which  thun- 
ders at  the  frowning  fortress,  and  rains  its  iron  storm 
upon  it  until  a  breach  is  made  in  the  walls,  and  the 
way  is  clear  for  a  hand-to-hand  conflict,  a  rush  to  the 
battlements,  and  the  planting  of  the  victorious  stand- 
ard upon  the  walls." 

The  power  of  personal  influence  is  a  mighty  power 
in  the  pulpit  as  elsewhere.  How  often  has  it  been 
noticed  that  "  One  speaker  will  deliver  a  certain  set 
of  opinions  in  suitable  words,  and  with  all  the  aid  which 


THE  PREACHER. 


305 


art  can  give  him,  and  his  words  will  fall  cold  and  flat 
upon  the  ears  of  those  who  hear  him.  Another  will 
utter  the  same  words,  with  less  apparent  eloquence, 
it  may  be,  but  he  will  reach  the  heart  and  stir  the 
emotions  of  every  person  within  reach  of  his  voice. 
Yet  the  truth  proclaimed  by  both  speakers  was  the 
same;  the  difference  lies  in  some  subtle  distinction  of 
personality  which  makes  the  one  man  a  living  magnet, 
and  which  leaves  the  other  without  the  power  to  com- 
mand either  conviction  or  sympathy." 

The  preacher,  of  all  professions,  should  not  rorget 
the  nature  and  importance  of  his  calling.  He  is  deal- 
ing with  the  most  tremendous  issues  that  belong  to 
our  destiny:  and  the  day  is  short  in  which  he  can 
work.  With  this  solemn  responsibility  ever  pressing 
upon  him,  making  all  things  subservient  to  the  effect- 
iveness of  his  holy  office,  and  relying  on  the  sustaining 
power  of  Him  in  whose  name  he  speaks,  he  may  hope 
for,  and  realize  a  blessed  ministry. 


<9HE  <§EAGHEI^. 


"  If  we  work  upon  marble,  it  will  perish;  if  we  work  upon 
brass,  time  will  efface;  if  we  rear  temples,  they  will  crumble 
mto  dust.  But  if  we  work  upon  immortal  minds, — if  we  imbue 
them  with  right  principles,- with  the  just  fear  of  God  and 
their  fellow-men,  we  engrave  upon  these  tablets  something 
which  no  time  can  efface,  but  which  will  brighten  to  all  eternity." 
—  Webster. 

ORD  BROUGHAM  left  this  fine  tribute  to 
faithful  teachers:  44  The  conqueror  moves 
on  in  a  march.  He  stalks  onward  with  the 
i  pride,  pomp,  and  circumstance  of  war' — banners  fly- 
ing, shouts  rending  the  air,  guns  thundering,  and  mar- 
tial music  pealing  to  drown  the  shrieks  of  the  wounded, 
and  the  lamentations  for  the  slain. 

"  Not  thus  the  schoolmaster  in  his  peaceful  vocation. 
He  meditates  and  prepares  in  secret  the  plans  which 
are  to  bless  mankind;  he  slowly  gathers  around  him 
those  who  are  to  further  their  execution;  he  quietly, 
though  firmly,  advances  in  his  humble  path,  laboring 
steadily,  but  calmly,  till  he  has  opened  to  the  light  all 
the  recesses  of  ignorance,  and  torn  up  by  the  roots 
the  weeds  of  vice.  It  is  a  progress  not  to  be  compared 
with  anything  like  a  march;  but  it  leads  to  a  far  more 
brilliant  triumph,  and  to  laurels  more  imperishable  than 
the  destroyer  of  his  species,  the  scourge  of  the  world, 
ever  won. 

306 


THE  TEACHER. 


307 


Such  men — men  deserving  the  glorious  title  of 
teachers  of  mankind — I  have  found  laboring  conscien- 
tiously,  though  perhaps  obscurely,  in  their  blessed 
vocation  wherever  I  have  gone.  I  have  found  them, 
and  shared  their  fellowship,  among  the  daring,  the 
ambitious,  the  ardent,  the  indomitably  active  French; 
I  have  found  them  among  the  persevering,  resolute,  in- 
dustrious Swiss ;  I  have  found  them  among:  the  labori- 
ous,  the  warm-hearted,  the  enthusiastic  Germans;  I 
have  found  them  among  the  high-minded  but  enslaved 
Italians;  and  in  our  country,  God  be  thanked,  their 
numbers  everywhere  abound,  and  are  every  day  in- 
creasing. Their  calling  is  high  and  holy  ;  their  fame 
is  the  property  of  nations;  their  renown  will  fill  the 
earth  in  after  ages,  111  proportion  as  it  sounds  not  far 
off  in  their  own  times.  Each  one  of  these  great 
teachers  of  the  world,  possessing  his  soul  in  peace,  per- 
forms his  appointed  course — awaits  in  patience  the  ful- 
fillment of  the  promises — resting  from  his  labors,  be- 
queaths his  memory  to  the  generation  whom  his  works 
have  blessed — and  sleeps  under  the  humble,  but  not 
inglorious  epitaph,  commemorating  £  one  in  whom  man- 
kind lost  a  friend,  and  no  man  got  rid  of  an  enemy.'" 

Luther  said,  if  he  were  not  a  preacher  he  would  be 
a  teacher;  and  he  thought  the  latter  was  the  most  im- 
portant, since  it  was  easier  to  form  a  new  character 
than  to  correct  a  depraved  one. 

There  is  a  significant  fable  in  the  Jewish  Talmud, 
which  illustrates  how  the  power  of  the  teacher  has 


3o8 


THE  TEACHER. 


been  recognized  for  thousands  of  years.  The  fable 
relates  that  at  a  time  of  great  drought  in  Palestine  the 
priests  and  the  pharisees,  the  rabbis  and  the  scribes, 
had  assembled  together  to  pray  for  rain;  but  notwith- 
standing their  united  intercessions  the  rain  came  not. 
Then  there  stood  up  among  them  one  whom  none 
knew,  and,  as  he  prayed,  immediately  the  sky  became 
dark,  and  the  rain  fell  in  torrents.  "  Who  art  thou, 
whose  prayers  are  heard  when  all  ours  have  been  re- 
jected ?"  asked  the  astonished  people.  And  the  stranger 
answered:  "  I  am  a  teacher  of  little  children." 

What  nobler  work  can  there  be  than  to  develop  the 
character  and  mould  the  lives  of  those  who  will  live 
after  us, — to  set  in  motion  trains  of  influences  which 
will  reach  out  into  eternity. 

An  incident  has  been  related  which  shows  what 
wonderful  transformation  of  character  may  result 
from  successful  teaching.  Recently,  a  brilliant  and 
finely  educated  young  man  was  sent  to  represent  one 
of  the  powerful  religious  denominations  in  a  new  ter- 
ritory. Twelve  years  before,  he  was  one  of  the  wild 
Arabs  of  New  York  city,  sleeping  by  the  docks,  or  in 
doorways,  and  finally  was  sent  to  one  of  the  institu- 
tions of  BlackwelPs  Island.  While  there,  an  officer 
of  the  Aid  Society  saw  and  became  interested  in  him, 
and  he  was  sent  out  West  on  a  farm.  Three  months 
every  year  of  the  district  school  developed  in  him  a 
passion  for  learning;  then,  when  he  had  served  out 
his  time  on  the  farm,  he  got  appointed  as  bell-ringer 


THE  TEACHER.  3O9 

at  Yale  College,  and  so  paid  his  expenses  while  going 
through  that  institution.  His  good  conduct  and  bril- 
liant record  won  him  influential  friends,  who,  after  he 
Graduated,  sent  him  to  a  theological  seminary  for 
three  years,  and  thus  he  was  fitted  for  a  career  of  act- 
ive usefulness. 

Who  can  estimate  the  power  for  good  of  such  a  life? 
Yet  how  much  of  it  was  due  to  the  faithful  work  of 
the  teacher  in  the  humble  district  school  of  his  Western 
home  ? 

Oftentimes  the  teacher  becomes  discouraged  at  the 
seeming  fruitlessness  of  his  labors. 

7^  Dr.  Arnold  once  observed  of  a  bad  pupil,  and  his 
efforts  to  help  him:  "It  is  very  often  like  kicking  a 
football  up  a  hill.  You  kick  it  upwards  twenty  yards, 
and  it  rolls  back  nineteen.  Still  you  have  gained  one 
yard,  and  then  in  a  good  many  kicks  you  make  some 
progress.11 

How  carefully  the  gardener  prepares  his  ground, 
chooses  his  seed,  and  improves  the  right  time  for  sow- 
ing; and  then,  if  he  be  a  wise  man,  he  does  not  fret 
and  worry  because  he  does  not  see  immediate  results, 
for  he  knows  there  must  be  a  time  for  growth.  So 
the  teacher  must  await  in  patience  the  development  of 
the  seeds  of  knowledge,  principle  and  purpose,  which 
it  is  his  mission  to  implant  in  the  minds  of  his  pupils. 

The  successful  teacher  must  have  a  love  for  the 
work.  He  must  take  a  personal  interest  in  his  pupils; 
study  each  character  by  itself,  and,  to  attain  the  best 


THE  TEACHER. 


results,  must  gain  their  confidence  and  love.  What  a 
charming  picture  a  poet  has  drawn  of  the  simple 
school  of  our  forefathers,  thus  describing-  the  gentle 
old  teacher  of  the  olden  time: 

"  He  taught  his  scholars  the  rule  of  three, 

Writing,  and  reading,  and  history,  too ; 
He  took  the  little  ones  up  on  his  knee, 
For  a  kind  old  heart  in  his  breast  had  he, 

And  the  wants  of  the  littlest  child  he  knew. 
1  Learn  while  you're  young,'  he  often  said, 

'  There  is  much  to  enjoy  down  here  below; 
Life  for  the  living  and  rest  for  the  dead,' 

Said  the  jolly  old  pedagogue,  long  ago. 

With  the  stupidest  boys  he  was  kind  and  cool, 

Speaking  only  in  gentlest  tones; 
The  rod  was  hardly  known  in  his  school- 
Whipping  to  him  was  a  barbarous  rule, 

And  too  hard  work  for  his  poor  old  bones; 
Besides,  it  was  painful,  he  sometimes  said: 

4  We  should  make  life  pleasant  down  here  below, 
The  living  need  charity  more  than  the  dead,' 

Said  the  jolly  old  pedagogue,  long  ago." 

*  No  work  except  the  mother's,  to  which  that  of  the 
true  teacher  is  allied,  calls  for  more  varied  qualities 
than  the  teacher's  work. 

It  is  not  enough  that  he  be  learned  in  all  wisdom,  so 
that  he  may  stand  before  his  pupils  the  embodiment  of 
the  thought  and  culture  to  which  they  should  aspire,  he 
must  know  how  to  impart  that  knowledge ;  nay,  often 
to  create  and  foster  a  desire  for  it.  He  must  be  wise 
in  his  ways  of  presenting  truths,  and  patient  when 
results  seem  to  be  almost  lacking. 

The  true  teacher  must  also  be  firm  as  well  as  loving. 


THE  TEACHER. 


There  must  be  no  compromise  with  rebellion  against 
rightful  authority,  otherwise  he  is  fostering  the  seeds 
of  anarchy.  It  is  the  teacher's  right  and  duty  to  be 
obeyed,  and  he  must  expect  nothing  else. 

He  must  be  full  of  vital  force  and  power  which  will 
be  contagious.  He  must  know  how  to  handle  his 
little  corps  of  undisciplined  troops  as  a  body,  so  that 
no  time  may  be  wasted,  and  the  inspiration  which 
comes  from  numbers  may  be  made  the  most  of, —  and 
at  the  same  time  he  must  have  every  heart  and  will 
so  thoroughly  under  his  loving  mastery  that  they  will 
respond  to  his  touch  as  keys  to  the  touch' of  the  master 
musician. 

Much  of  this  skill  is  heaven-born,  but  there  must  be 
years  of  patient  striving  before  either  the  musician  or 
the  teacher  can  be  sure  of  no  discord. 

Would  that  every  teacher  in  the  land  would  take 
to  heart  these  words  of  Payson :  "  What  if  God  should 
place  in  your  hand  a  diamond,  and  tell  you  to  inscribe 
on  it  a  sentence  which  should  be  read  at  the  last  day, 
and  shown  there  as  an  index  of  your  own  thoughts  and 
feelings;  what  care,  what  caution,  would  you  exercise 
in  the  selection!  Now,  this  is  what  God  has  done. 
He  has  placed  before  you  the  immortal  minds  of  chil- 
dren, more  imperishable  than  the  diamond,  on  which 
you  are  to  inscribe,  every  day,  and  every  hour,  by  your 
instructions,  by  your  spirit,  or  by  your  example,  some- 
thing which  will  remain  and  be  exhibited  for  or 
against  you  at  the  judgment.11 


youi^  Duty  in  ^olitigs. 


iMLxVJJ)  neglects  his  public  duty  is  a  public 

t^g^|    enemy.    There  is  a  large  class  of  such  pub- 
lie  enemies,  and  they  are  the  most  serious 
menace  to  the  purity  and  prosperity  of  our  govern- 


f  HARLES  SUMNER  said  that  the  citizen 


ment.  They  are  men  who  hold  politics  in  reproach, 
because  of  its  pollutions  and  rottenness,  but  who,  in- 
stead of  doing  their  part  to  purify  it,  scornfully  take 
up  their  skirts,  and  say  that  they  will  not  descend  into 
its  mire,  forgetting  that  they  themselves  are  responsi- 
ble for  such  deplorable  conditions  by  their  own  neg- 
lect of  duty.  They  may,  too,  be  so  absorbed  in  their 
own  private  interests  that  they  satisfy  themselves  with 
the  excuse  that  they  cannot  spare  the  time. 

Said  the  Earl  of  Derby,  in  an  address  to  students: 
"  If  there  is  one  thing  more  certain  than  another,  it  is 
this, — that  every  member  of  a  community  is  bound  to 
do  something  for  that  community  in  return  for  what 
he  gets  from  it;  and  neither  intellectual  cultivation, 
nor  the  possession  of  material  wealth,  nor  any  other 
plea  whatever,  except  that  of  physical  or  mental  in- 
capacity, can  excuse  any  of  us  from  that  plain  and  per- 
sonal duty." 

The  man  who  neglects  his  duty  in  this  matter  is 


YOUR.  DUTY  IN  POLITICS, 


313 


guilty  of  a  moral  wrong,  for  society  and  the  nation  is 
made  up  of  an  aggregation  of  individuals,  each  of  whom 
is  under  a  tacit  obligation  to  sustain  and  preserve  them, 
in  return  for  the  protection  and  benefits  which  he  de- 
rives from  them. 

Says  R.  W.  Dale,  an  English  divine:  "I  think  it 
possible  that  the  time  may  come  when  men  who  refuse 
to  vote  will  be  subjected  to  church  discipline,  like  men 
who  refuse  to  pay  their  debts." 

There  was  a  law  of  Pythagoras  which  pronounced 
every  man  infamous  who.  in  questions  of  public  mo- 
ment, did  not  take  sides;  and  well  were  it  for  us  to-day 
if  we  were  subject  to  such  a  law. 

Rev.  C.  H.  Spurgeon  thus  speaks  of  men  who  neg- 
lect their  public  duties:  k>  The  fact  is,  a  certain  class 
of  men  love  to  be  quiet,  and  are  ready  to  sell  their 
country  to  the  evil  one  himself,  so  that  they  may  live 
at  ease  and  make  no  enemies.  They  have  not  the 
manliness  to  plead  for  the  right,  for  it  might  cost  them 
a  customer  or  a  friend,  and  so  they  profess  a  superior 
holiness  as  a  reason  for  skulking." 

An  able  writer,  of  our  own  country,  has  spoken 
words  which  are  worthy  to  be  treasured  up  in  the 
heart  of  every  true  citizen.    He  says: 

u  In  our  days  it  seems  that  men  who  are  almost 
completely  destitute  of  all  proper  ideas  of  their  rela- 
tions to  free  institutions,  have  a  greater  influence  than 
those  who  fully  understand  this  relationship. 

"  Men  of  refinement,  of  high  social  position,  of  the 


3H 


YOUR  DUTY  IN  POLITICS. 


highest  mental  culture,  ministers  of  the  Gospel,  have, 
in  a  very  large  measure,  stepped  back,  and  given  way 
to  the  preponderating  forces  of  ignorance  and  personal 
advantage;  so  that  now  our  officers,  to  a  great  extent, 
hold  their  positions  by  the  votes  of  those  who  fail  to 
comprehend  the  real  significance  of  the  ballot. 

"  Because  politics  have  become  so  miserably  cor- 
rupt, being  almost  synonymous  with  fraud,  are  the 
cultured,  the  refined,  and  the  ministers  justified  in 
holding  themselves  entirely  aloof,  and,  by  their  very 
refusal  to  become  interested  in  these  high  concerns 
making  an  increase  in  corruption  still  more  possible? 

"  The  government  is  for  all, — for  the  artisan  who 
lives  and  earns  his  bread  and  clothing  by  manual  labor, 
and  for  those  who  seek  and  obtain  the  same  results  by 
brain  efforts.  Every  citizen  is  equally  brought  under 
all  the  advantages  that  may  be  gained  by  the  form  of 
government  which  has  been  agreed  upon;  which  has 
been  established  in  harmony  with  such  agreement ;  and 
no  one  class  is,  or  can  be,  justified  in  ceasing  to  exert 
individual  effort  for  the  maintenance  of  every  in- 
stitution which  has  grown  out  of  the  form  of  govern- 
ment under  whose  protection  we  live.  And  this  is 
still  more  true  when  these  institutions  are,  in  their  very 
nature,  free,  therefore  liable  to  be  misused,  and  very 
liable  to,  work  out  an  entirely  different  result  from  the 
original  intention, — this  end  accomplished  by  the  ig- 
norance of  the  very  ones  who  should  derive  a  large 
share  of  benefit  from  their  continuance." 


YOUR  DUTY  IN  POLITICS.  3  1 5 

A  part  of  public  duty  which  is  more  universally  ig- 
nored by  men  of  seemingly  high  character  and  influ- 
ence, than  any  other,  is  that  of  holding  public  office. 
There  are  hundreds  of  men  who  have  the  qualifica- 
tions of  integrity,  mental  capacity,  great  business  ex- 
perience, with  leisure,  and  who  command  the  con- 
fidence of  the  community  in  which  they  live,  but  who 
refuse  to  hold  offices  of  trust  and  responsibility.  The 
consequence  is,  that  a  lower  grade  of  men  take  the 
offices  from  motives  of  gain  or  personal  ambition.  Is 
it  not  a  shame  that  the  desire  to  benefit  the  world  by 
faithfully  performing  the  duties  of  a  public  office 
should  not  be  as  strong  as  the  selfish  considerations  of 
personal  gain?  A  man  who  is  called  to  an  office,  and 
is  fitted  for  it.  has  no  more  right  to  refuse  to  serve 
than  to  deny  to  the  thirsty  the  cup  of  cold  water,  or 
to  omit  any  act  of  kindness  or  charity.  It  is  not  a  trifling 
matter  which  he  can  excuse  by  whims,  impulses,  or 
caprice,  but  he  does  a  positive  wrong  to  the  interests 
of  society  and  good  government,  and  is  morally  ac- 
countable for  it.  This  feeling  has  its  root  in  selfishness, 
which  is  as  reprehensible  in  this  form  as  in  any  other. 
If  good  order,  just  laws,  and  a  righteous  administration 
of  justice  are  to  be  maintained,  it  must  be  not  by  those 
who  are  in  conflict  with  them,  but  by  those  who  are 
willing  to  uphold  and  stand  by  them,  and  give  some- 
thing more  than  a  mere  negative  support  to  them. 
Citizen  of  a  free  and  enlightened  government, — do  you 
consider  what  a  rich  and  glorious  heritage  has  been 

1 


316 


YOUR  DUTY  IN  POLITICS. 


committed  to  your  keeping?  It  is  a  sacred  trust  which 
you  hold  for  future  generations. 

See,  then,  that  you  transmit  it  unimpaired  to  your 
posterity.  If  you  are  called  upon  to  hold  office,  do 
not  shirk  it  because  it  conflicts  with  your  ease,  or  even 
with  your  business;  but  accept  it,  and  hold  it  worthily. 
If  there  is  work  in  the  primary  caucus,  do  not  despise 
it  because  it  may  seem  unimportant,  but  remember 
that  the  bulk  of  the  work  of  the  world  is  drudgery,  of 
which  politics  has  its  share,  and  it  should  be  your 
duty,  as  much  as  others,  to  bear  it.  Remember  that 
"  eternal  vigilance  is  the  price  of  liberty,"  and  our  in- 
stitutions cannot  be  maintained  without  the  support 
and  active  co-operation  of  all  intelligent  and  high- 
minded  citizens. 

(i  What  constitutes  a  state? 
Not  high-raised  battlement  or  labored  mound, 

Thick  wall  or  moated  gate; 
Not  cities  proud  with  spires  and  turrets  crowned; 

Not  bays  and  broad-armed  ports, 
Where,  laughing  at  the  storm,  rich  navies  ride; 

Not  starred  and  spangled  courts, 
Where  low-browed  baseness  wafts  perfume  to  pride. 

No: — men,  high-minded  men, 

Men  who  their  duties  know, 
But  know  their  rights,  and,  knowing,  dare  maintain, 

Prevent  the  long-aimed  blow, 
And  crush  the  tyrant  while  they  rend  the  chain; 

These  constitute  a  state." 


(Sl^JE  ©ULTUI^B  AND  E?I^0GI^E53. 


\D  rsm  an<^  exclusiveness  of  its  adherents.  It  would 
draw  its  inspiration  from  art,  literature,  music, 
travel,  and  create  an  aristocracy  of  mind,  in  society, 
whose  select  circle  no  one  less  favored  can  hope  or  enter. 
It  is  merely  a  refined  form  of  selfishness, — having  ele-  ■ 
gant  manners,  subdued  tones,  and  an  attractive  bear- 
ing, to  be  sure,  but  yet  selfish  and  narrow  in  its  spirit 
and  purpose.  Its  object  is  the  glorification  of  the  in- 
dividual, and  it  aims  at  culture  for  its  own  sake  only. 
How  different  this  from  the  culture  which  has  been 
thus  defined  by  an  able  essayist: 

tl  Professor  Huxley  somewhere  says,  in  substance, 
that  a  cultured  man  is  one  whose  body  is  trained  to 
obedience;  whose  passions  are  brought  to  heel  un- 
der the  mandates  of  a  vigorous  will;  whose  mind  is 
thoroughly  informed  as  to  the  laws  of  nature,  and 
whose  whole  nature  is  in  obedience  to  them.  If  there 
is  no  future,  this  definition  of  culture  will  do  well 
enough,  though  even  then  it  does  not  comprehend  all 
the  uses  of  the  mind.  But  if  heaven  continues  all  good 
apprenticeship  of  the  mind  here,  and  engages  it  ac- 


HERE  is  a  so-called  culture  abroad  in  the 
world  which  is  calculated  to  foster  the  pride 


3l7 


3i8 


TRUE  CULTURE  AND  PROGRESS. 


cording  to  its  skill,  then  how  important  that  education 
should  take  in  all  our  nature,  and  that  the  mind  should 
be  trained  to  the  best  thoughts.  Culture,  then,  is  not 
wholly  nor  mainly  a  thing  for  this  world.  The  laws 
of  matter  are  not  its  chief  concern.  Rather,  study 
upon  those  objects  of  knowledge  that  are  endless  and 
changeless,  should  most  seriously  engage  it.  Culture 
should,  then,  be  cognizant,  not  only  of  natural  science, 
but  also  of  truth  and  duty,  and  God  and  immortality. 
And  subjects  of  study  should  be  ardently  pursued  in  pro- 
portion to  their  tendency  to  fit  us  for  endless  develop- 
ment of  our  powers,  and  endless  fields  of  activity.  The 
wise  student  now-a-days  shapes  his  course  toward  his 
profession.  He  reins  himself  on  to  the  1  one  thing'  he  pro- 
poses to  do  in  life.  When  the  culture  of  the  mind  is  seen 
to  have  a  direct  bearing  upon  immortal  energies,  those 
who  value  those  energies,  and  live  for  them,  will  shape 
not  only  their  worship,  but  also  their  education,  for  the 
pursuits  of  heaven.  Indeed,  we  know  not  what  the 
saints'  work  will  be  in  glory;  but  we  know  it  will  be 
within  certain  lines;  we  know  it  will  be  in  the  highest 
ranges  of  action.  It  will  be  according  to  eternal  truth 
and  righteousness.  And,  therefore,  the  studies  now 
that  will  be  of  most  use  then,  are  those  that  tend  to 
elevation  and  purity  of  thought.  The  knowledge  of 
God's  works;  the  study  of  his  providence;  the.  con- 
sideration  of  truth  in  its  action  on  human  minds;  the 
relations  between  knowledge  and  character;  and, 
above  all,  the  excellence  and  glory  of  God — these  are 


TRUE  CULTURE  AND  PROGRESS. 


319 


the  themes  that  will  form  a  culture  most  in  harmony 
with  God's  word,  and,  therefore,  most  in  harmony 
with  heaven." 

The  venerable  Mark  Hopkins,  who  was  in  mind, 
spirit,  attainment  and  character,  one  of  the  rarest  ex- 
amples of  true  culture,  said  that  "  the  aim  of  the 
highest  education  is  to  give  character,  rather  than 
knowledge;  to  train  men  to  be  rather  than  to  know" 
True  culture  leads  to  broad  and  generous  views  of 
life  and  its  duties,  not  desiring  self  improvement  for 
personal  gratification  merely,  but  as  the  acquisition  of 
new  powers  and  forces  with  which  to  do  good.  A 
generous  heart  has  said:  ''Just  as  we  are  stewards, 
and  not  owners,  of  the  material  possessions  with  which 
we  are  favored  by  the  good  God,  so  are  we  bound  to 
use  what  knowledge  we  acquire,  for  the  benefit  of  our 
fellow-men.  and  in  the  service  of  its  Giver.  Culture, 
for  culture's  own  sake — of  which  the  apostles  of 
"  sweetness  and  lipfht  "  have  so  much  to  say — is  a  cul- 
ture  which  not  only  misses  the  real  value,  even  to  its 
possesssor,  of  daily  use  for  the  benefit  of  others,  but 
also  is  misused  in  the  sight  of  God.  To  hoard  a  fact 
may  be  of  a  far  greater  wrong  than  to  hoard  a  gold 
dollar:  for  both  knowledge  and  money  are  talents 
which  ought  to  have  some  better  use  than  to  be 
securely  hidden.  Any  well-informed  person  may  be 
quite  sure  that  he  knows  some  things,  at  any  rate, 
which  his  friends  and  neighbors  do  not  know,  and 
which  he  can  make  very  effective  weapons  in  the  war 


320 


TRUE  CULTURE  AND  PROGRESS. 


against  ignorance  and  sin.  When  you  have  well 
learned  any  fact,  lay  it  up  in  your  mind,  not  as  an 
adornment  of  your  own  mental  parlor,  or  as  a  prized 
possession  to  gloat  over  at  your  leisure,  but  as  some- 
thing for  which  others  have  need  now,  or  will  soon 
have  need.  It  is  a  constant  surprise  to  any  person 
who  really  tries  to  help  others  with  his  religious  and 
secular  knowledge  to  find  how  soon  he  can  utilize  the 
last  thing  he  has  learned.1'  This  is  the  culture  that 
will  renovate  the  world,  and  is  worthy  to  be  sought  by 
every  earnest  soul. 

On  this  subject  Coleridge  writes :  "  Alas !  how  many 
examples  are  now  present  to  memory  of  young  men 
the  most  anxiously  and  expensively  be-school-mastered, 
be-tutored,  be-lectured,  anything  but  educated  •  who 
have  received  arms  and  ammunition,  instead  of  skill, 
strength,  and  courage;  varnished,  rather  than  polished; 
perilously  over-civilized,  and  most  pitiably  uncultivated ; 
and  all  from  inattention  to  the  method  dictated  by 
Nature  herself — to  the  simple  truth  that,  as  the  forms 
in  all  organized  existence,  so  must  all  true  and  living 
knowledge  proceed  from  within;  that  it  may  be  trained, 
supported,  fed,  excited,  but  can  never  be  infused  or 
impressed. 

Another  benefit  of  true  culture,  is  to  counteract  the 
narrowness  of  views  and  life  which  comes  from  follow- 
ing closely  an  absorbing  pursuit  or  profession.  A 
professional  journalist  has  said,  that  "  the  man  who  is 
professional  only,  whatever  his  profession  be,  is  apt  to 


TRUE  CULTURE  AND  PROGRESS. 


321 


find  his  ideas  fashioning  themselves  after  a  set  pattern, 
his  thoughts  running  into  set  grooves,  and  his  influence 
after  a  while  growing  circumscribed  and  partial.  The 
minister  whose  entire  time  and  attention  are  occupied 
by  theology ;  the  lawyer  who  lives  exclusively  for  the 
rewards  of  legal  ambition;  the  merchant  whose  brain 
never  emerges  from  the  atmosphere  of  the  warehouse, 
and  the  doctor  who  never  lifts  himself  from  inspecting 
the  pathology  of  the  human  body,  all  alike  discover, 
in  the  course  of  years,  that  the  world  is  eroingf  on  and 
leaving  them.  They  may  be  profound,  but  neverthe- 
less they  have  their  shallows.  Young '  people,  who 
have  not  a  tithe  of  their  erudition,  pass  them  in  the 
race.  Their  own  families  begin  to  regard  them  with 
a  certain  benevolent  toleration,  not  unmixed  with 
kindly  contempt.  And  this  is  not  the  worst  result  of 
their  narrowness.  They  become  insensibly  the  victims 
of  prejudice,  and  it  no  longer  is  in  their  power,  even  if 
it  be  in  their  will,  to  form  a  free,  strong,  truthful  judg- 
ment of  any  new  thing  presented  to  their  view. 

''Every  professional  man  should  cultivate  a  knowledge 
of  things  and  of  men  outside  of  his  special  department. 
He  should  scorn  no  knowledge  that  comes  to  him, 
even  if  it  be  of  facts  quite  removed  from  his  ordinary 
needs. 

"  Whatever  be  our  dominant  engagement  in  life,  we 
need  to  be  broadened  and  kept  sympathetic  by  some- 
thing which  takes  us  out  of  ourselves,  and  leads  us  up 
from  the  rut  of  our  ordinary  days.    '  How  cross  I 


322 


TRUE  CULTURE  AND  PROGRESS. 


could  be,'  said  a  tired  mother  one  day  not  long 
since,  1  if  I  could  not  rest  myself  by  an  hour  now  and 
then  at  the  organ !  7  Some  accomplishment,  pursuit  or 
study,  as  far  removed  as  possible  from  our  accustomed 
work,  is  valuable  as  an  adjunct  to  broad  culture,  and 
is  beyond  price  as  an  assistant  to  contentment  and 
peace  of  mind.'" 

After  all,  the  basis  of  culture  is  character:  "  Above 
all  things  in  the  world,"  lately  wrote  the  editor  of  one 
of  our  leading  American  magazines,  u  character  has 
supreme  value.  A  man  can  never  be  more  than  what 
his  character  —  intellectual,  moral,  spiritual  —  makes 
him.  A  man  can  never  do  more,  or  better,  than 
deliver,  or  embody,  that  which  is  characteristic  of 
himself.  All  masquerading  and  make-believe  produce 
little  impression,  and,  in  their  products  and  results,  die 
early.  Nothing  valuable  can  come  out  of  a  man  that 
is  not  in  him  -  -  embodied  in  his  character.  Nothing 
can  be  more  unphilosophical  than  the  idea  that  a  man 
who  stands  upon  a  low  moral  and  spiritual  plane  can 
produce,  in  literature  or  art,  anything  valuable.  He 
may  do  that  which  dazzles  or  excites  wonder  or  admi- 
ration, but  he  can  produce  nothing  that  has  genuine 
value;  for,  after  all,  value  must  be  measured  by  the 
power  to  enrich,  exalt,  and  purify  life." 


Good  (Sal^ei^s  and  Salting. 


\j   the  daughter  of  reasoning,  the  mother  of 


w  OME  one  has  said  that,  "  Conversation  is 


Syc^  knowledge,  the  health  of  the  soul,  the  com- 
merce of  hearts,  the  bond  of  friendship,  the 
nourishment  of  content,  and  the  occupation  of  men  of 
wit." 

There  is  no  accomplishment  more  desirable  than 
that  of  having  the  ability  to  express  our  ideas  in  an 
intelligible  and  agreeable  manner,  and  yet  nothing  is 
more  neglected  than  the  art  of  acquiring  this  most  in- 
estimable faculty. 

That  profound  scholar  and  famous  philosopher,  Sir 
William  Hamilton,  says:  "Man,  in  fact,  only  attains 
the  use  of  his  faculties  in  obtaining  the  use  of  speech, 
for  language  is  the  indispensable  means  of  the  develop- 
ment of  his  natural  powers,  whether  intellectual  or 
moral." 

If,  then,  the  growth  of  the  mind  and  character  de- 
pends so  largely  on  our  powers  of  expression,  how 
important  that  we  employ  every  method  of  cultivating 
our  natural  ability  in  this  direction. 

Some  one  has  said,  that  "  the  most  necessary  talent 
in  conversation  is  good  judgment." 

"  The  secret  of  success  lies  not  so  much  in  knowing 

323 


324 


GOOD  TALKERS  AND  TALKING. 


what  to  say,  as  in  what  to  avoid  saying."  There  are 
brilliant  talkers  of  whom  we  are  always  in  dread,  lest 
they  sting  us  by  some  careless  sarcasm  or  witty  re- 
joinder. Better  an  eternal  silence  than  to  scatter  fire- 
brands and  cause  heartaches;  such  conversers  bring 
upon  themselves  the  well-merited  contempt  and  con- 
demnation of  mankind. 

One  of  the  first  requisites  of  conversation  is  to  have 
something  worth  saying.  Lowell  once  said,  "  Blessed 
are  they  who  have  nothing  to  say,  and  cannot  be  per- 
suaded to  say  it;"  and  another  remarked,  "  There  are 
few  wild  beasts  to  be  dreaded  more  than  a  communi- 
cative man  with  nothing  to  communicate." 

Carlyle,  in  his  rugged,  vigorous  style,  expresses  him- 
self quite  as  strongly  to  the  same  point:  "  Thou  who 
wearest  that  cunning,  heaven-made  organ,  a  tongue, 
think  well  of  this:  Speak  not,.  I  passionately  entreat 
thee,  till  thy  thought  have  silently  matured  itself,  till 
thou  have  other  than  mad  and  mad-making  noises  to 
emit;  hold  thy  tongue  WW  some  meaning  lie  behind  it 
to  set  it  wagging.  Consider  the  significance  of  Si- 
lence; it  is  boundless, — never  by  meditating  to  be  ex- 
hausted; unspeakably  profitable  to  thee!  Cease  that 
chaotic  hub-bub  wherein  thy  own  soul  runs  to  waste, 
to  confused  suicidal  dislocation  and  stupor;  out  of 
silence  comes  strength." 

The  ground  work  of  conversation  is  knowledge  of 
the  subject  under  consideration,  and  without  this, 
words  are  but  useless  twaddle. 


GOOD  TALKERS  AND  TALKING. 


325 


Montesquieu  said  that  "  a  man  generally  talks  in 
proportion  to  the  small  degree  of  thought  which  he 
possesses,  but  if  he  does,  he  is  digging  the  grave  of  his 
own  reputation."  The  most  brilliant  talkers  have  been 
invariably  those  whose  thirst  for  knowledge  was  un- 
quenchable. Madame  de  Stael  could  converse  with  the 
most  astute  diplomat  on  political  affairs  in  Europe,  or 
meet  the  most  subtle  philosopher  on  his  own  ground 
in  the  realm  of  metaphysics.  Burke,  one  of  the  most 
wonderful  talkers  of  his  time,  had  an  appetite  for  facts 
and  information  which  was  absolutely  insatiable. 
Scarcely  anything  escaped  him,  and  all  his  vast  knowl- 
edge was  at  command.  He  would  draw  from  others 
their  knowledge  of  the  subject  with  which  they  were 
most  familiar,  and  next  to  his  ability  for  talking  him- 
self, was  his  ability  to  make  others  talk.  Fox,  his 
friend  and  contemporary,  also  one  of  the  best 
talkers  of  his  day,  was  equally  distinguished  in  this  re- 
spect; and  it  is  related  that  when  out  once  with  a  hunt- 
ing party,  which  became  scattered  by  a  shower,  he 
engaged  in  conversation  with  a  ploughman  under  a 
tree,  and  became  an  attentive  listener  to  his  descrip- 
tion of  a  new  method  of  planting  turnips. 

Next  in  importance  to  knowing  what  to  say,  is  the 
ability  to  say  it  —  clearly,  forcibly  and  magnetically. 
Thousands  who  have  knowledge,  have  not  the  power 
of  expression,  and  thus  their  wisdom  is  but  of  small 
account  to  others.  Even  some  of  the  greatest  names 
in  literature  were  men  who  were  singularly  deficient 


326 


GOOD  TALKERS  AND  TALKING. 


in  conversational  powers,  and  sorely  disappointed  all 
who  came  in  contact  with  them.  Addison,  whose 
felicitous  style  of  composition  made  his  writings  mod- 
els of  purity  and  grace,  was,  notwithstanding,  a  dull 
talker.  Buffon,  the  great  naturalist;  Descartes,  the 
famous  philosopher;  Gibbon,  the  famous  historian;  and 
a  host  of  other  renowned  characters,  although  pos- 
sessed of  remarkable  genius  in  their  several  fields  of 
labor,  were  nevertheless  lacking  in  conversational 
powers.  Indeed,  William  Hazlitt,  who  was  gifted 
with  one  of  the  keenest  and  most  critical  minds  of  his 
day,  and  who  enjoyed  extraordinary  opportunities  for 
observation,  was  of  the  opinion  that  authors  were  not 
fitted,  generally  speaking,  to  shine  in  conversation.  It 
is  said  that  neither  Pope  nor  Dryden  were  brilliant 
conversers;  and  Horace  Walpole  used  to  say  of 
Hume,  the  historian,  that  he  understood  nothing  until 
he  had  written  upon  it,  so  much  better  were  his  writ- 
ings than  his  conversation.  Goldsmith,  whose  spark- 
ling genius  made  his  books  so  delightful,  was  such  a 
bungler  in  speech  that  one  of  his  friends  said  of  him: 
"  He  wrote  like  an  angel,  but  talked  like  poor  Poll." 

Butler,  the  author  of  "  Hudibras,"  which  charmed 
all  England  with  its  humor,  and  keen  satire,  once  elic- 
ited from  a  nobleman  who  sought  an  interview  with 
him,  the  remark  that  he  was  like  a  nine-pin,  "  little 
at  both  ends,  and  great  in  the  middle. "  It  is  said  that 
Hogarth  and  Dean  Swift  were  both  absent-minded  in 
company;  that  even  Milton  was  unsocial,  and  almost 


GOOD  TALKERS  AND  TALKING. 


327 


irritable  when  pressed  into  conversation;  that  Dante 
was  either  taciturn  or  satirical;  that  Tasso  was  neither 
gay  nor  brilliant;  that  La  Fontaine  appeared  heavy, 
coarse  and  stupid,  and  could  not  describe  what  he  had 
just  seen;  that  Chaucer's  silence  was  more  agreeable 
than  his  conversation;  that  Corneille  was  so  stupid  that 
he  never  failed  to  weary  his  auditors;  that  Southey 
was  stiff,  sedate,  and  wrapped  up  in  asceticism,  and 
that  even  "  rare  Ben  Jonson  11  used  to  sit  silent  in 
company. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  said  of  Curran,  that  he 
was  a  convivial  deity, — soaring  into  every  region,  and 
at  home  in  all;  of  Leigh  Hunt,  that  he  was  like  a 
pleasant  stream  in  conversation;  but  of  Carlyle  that  he 
doubted,  objected  and  demurred,  as  might  have  been 
expected.  A  niece  of  the  Countess  of  Blessington,  who 
had  attained  considerable  celebrity  in  literary  circles, 
said  she  had  known  most  of  the  celebrated  talkers  of 
the  day, — among  whom  were,  Rogers,  Moore,  Sid- 
ney Smith,  Brougham,  Lord  Lyndhurst,  and  Douglas 
Jerrold.  But  she  says  of  Buckle,  the  author  of  the 
"  History  of  Civilization,'7  that  "  for  inexhaustibility, 
versatility,  memory  and  self-confidence,  I  never  met 
any  to  compete  with  Buckle.  Talking  was  meat  and 
drink  to  him;  he  lived  upon  talk.  He  could  keep  pace 
with  any  given  number  of  interlocutors,  or  any  given 
number  of  subjects,  from  the  abstrusest  point  on  the 
abstrusest  science  to  the  lightest  jeu  cPesprit,  and  talk 
them  all  down,  and  be  quite  ready  to  start  afresh.'" 


328 


GOOD  TALKERS  AND  TALKING. 


It  was  the  custom  of  Theodore  Hook,  whose  powers 
of  talking  were  marvelous,  to  be  always  on  the  alert 
for  bits  of  brilliant  conversation  and  stray  jokes,  which 
he  took  good  care  to  jot  down  in  his  note  book  for 
future  use. 

Boswell,  that  inimitable  biographer  of  Samuel  John- 
son, tells  us  that  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  asked  the  great 
moralist,  who  was  noted  for  his  wonderful  command  of 
words,  how  he  obtained  his  extraordinary  accuracy 
and  flow  of  language.  Johnson  replied  that  he  had 
early  laid  it  down  as  a  fixed  rule  to  do  his  best  on 
every  occasion,  and  in  every  company;  to  impart 
whatever  he  knew  in  the  most  forcible  language  he 
could  put  it  in,  and  that,  by  constant  practice,  never 
suffering  any  careless  expression  to  escape  him,  but 
always  attempting  to  arrange  his  thoughts  in  the  clear- 
est manner, — it  became  natural  to  him.  In  that 
answer  he  laid  bare  the  secret  of  his  success,  and  no 
further  hint  need  be  expressed  as  to  the  best 
method  of  improvement  in  this  direction.  The  simple 
plan  which  made  Johnson  one  of  the  best  talkers  of  his 
time,  will,  if  followed  as  faithfully  by  you,  improve 
your  power  of  thought  and  expression  until  you  are 
amazed  at  the  change  observable  even  by  yourself. 

Another  of  the  essentials  of  good  conversation  is  a 
wide  range  of  information  covering  almost  every  con- 
ceivable subject,  and  the  power  to  marshal  it  into  use 
at  a  moment's  notice.  Without  this  substratum  of 
knowledge,  a  stream  of  words  may  have  no  more 


« 

GOOD  TALKERS  AND  TALKING.  329 

practical  significance  than  the  unmeaning  chattering 
of  a  parrot.  A  good  talker  is  generally  a  well  in- 
formed man, — he  is  posted  on  the  current  questions  of 
the  day,  is  familiar  with  the  intellectual  celebrities  of 
his  own  and  other  countries,  is  aware  of  the  leading 
discoveries  of  the  world  of  science,  and  has  an  intelli- 
gible estimate  of  current  and  standard  literature,  with 
such  material  at  hand,  and  with  the  ability  to  express 
himself,  how  can  he  help  but  interest  and  attract  all 
who  listen  to  him.  This  knowledge  can  be  gained 
only  by  infinite  labor  and  application;  and  what  seem 
to  be  the  brilliant  flashes  of  genius  when  uttered,  are 
more  often  the  product  of  careful  and  painstaking 
thought. 

One  of  the  most  princely  intellects  of  modern  times, 
despite  his  dissipated  habits,  was  Richard  Brinsley 
Sheridan;  but  when  he  attempted  to  make  his  first 
speech  in  parliament,  it  was  a  total  failure.  An  or- 
dinary mind  would  have  been  so  chagrined  at  the  de- 
feat as  to  be  discouraged  from  future  attempts,  but 
Sheridan  was  made  of  different  mettle.  He  went  to 
work  for  seven  years  cultivating  his  wit  and  perfecting 
his  powers  of  expression,  and  what  the  result  was,  the 
history  of  British  statesmanship  will  attest.  One  wit- 
ticism which  the  world  will  not  soon  forget,  he  saved  for 
fifteen  years  before  he  had  an  opportunity  to  use  it.  It 
was  his  description  of  a  certain  person  of  whom  he  said 
that  "  he  trusted  to  his  memory  for  his  illustrations 
and  to  his  imagination  for  his  facts,"  and,  doubtless, 


* 


330  GOOD  TALKERS  AND  TALKING. 

all  who  heard  it  supposed  it  was  an  impromptu  scintil- 
lation of  his  brilliant  wit. 

Rufus  Choate  said  of  Pinckney,  the  great  lawyer: 
"  He  made  it  a  habit  from  his  youth,  whenever  he  met 
with  a  choice  thought  to  commit  it  to  memory,  and 
Choate  himself  was  not  far  behind  his  distinguished 
rival  in  following  the  same  practice. 

But  to  converse  well,  requires  more  than  mere  in- 
formation, or  knowledge,  combined  with  a  ready 
facility  of  expression.  There  must  also  be  sound  judg- 
ment and  a  good  heart,  for  without  these  all  other 
triumphs  are  hollow  and  delusive.  Our  conversation 
should  be  such  as  will  be  agreeable  to  others;  the  sub- 
ject of  it  should  be  appropriate  to  the  time,  place  and 
company,  and  we  should  avoid  all  bitterness,  all 
thoughtless  criticisms,  all  unseemly  ridicule,  and  the 
heartlessness  which  wounds  the  feelings  and  disturbs 
the  peace  of  those  who  listen  to  us, — and  then  our  pres- 
ence will  be  welcomed,  and  we  shall  diffuse  pleasure 
and  promote  friendship.  All  the  resources  of  tact  and 
wisdom  may  be  summoned  into  action  in  the  exercise 
of  our  colloquial  powers.  An  ancient  philosopher  made 
it  a  rule  to  divide  the  day  into  several  parts,  appoint- 
ing each  part  to  its  proper  engagement,  and  one  of 
these  was  devoted  to  silence  -wherein  to  study  what  to 
say.  What  innumerable  heart-burnings;  what  a  mul- 
titude of  family  quarrels;  what  a  host  of  local  feuds 
would  be  avoided,  if  this  wise  rule  were  universally 
followed. 


GOOD  TALKERS  AND  TALKING. 


331 


Conversation,  like  conduct,  should  be  based  on 
unselfishness  and  a  sincere  desire  to  please  and  benefit 
others.  If  founded  on  this,  there  is  no  danger  of  our  mo- 
nopolizing the  entire  time  of  a  company,  and  giving  no 
one  else  an  opportunity  of  expressing  his  views.  It 
was  a  rule  of  Dean  Swift's  to  take  in  conversation  as 
many  half  minutes  as  he  could  get,  but  never  to  take 
more  than  half  a  minute,  without  pausing  and  giving 
others  an  opportunity  to  strike  in. 

There  is  danger  that  a  good  talker  may  become  so 
accustomed  to  the  deference  and  attention  of  his  listen- 
ers, as  to  form  the  habit  of  talking  perpetually,  without 
pausing  for  a  reply.  Some  of  the  most  noted  convers- 
es fell  into  this  fault  of  indulging  in  monologues.  It 
is  told  of  Madame  De  Stael,  that  she  was  once  intro- 
duced to  a  deaf  man,  and  talked  with  him  about  an 
hour  without  noticing  that  he  made  no  reply.  After- 
wards she  inquired  who  he  was,  making  the  observa- 
tion "  that  she  thought  he  was  an  agreeable  gentleman. 
One  of  the  best  talkers  of  his  day  was  Coleridge.  His 
mind  was  so  acute,  and  his  flow  of  words  so  inexhaust- 
ible, that  he  would  talk  for  hours  upon  the  most 
difficult  and  abstruse  themes  in  mental  philosophy  and 
metaphysics.  An  incident  has  been  related  of  him 
which,  although  doubtless  an  exaggeration,  yet  illus- 
trates his  weakness  in  the  direction  we  have  mentioned. 
Passing  down  the  street  one  morning,  he  met  Charles 
Lamb,  and  seizing  him  by  the  button,  he  soon,  with 
head  thrown  back  and  eyes  closed,  was  fairly  launched 


332  GOOD  TALKERS  AND  TALKING. 

upon  the  boundless  sea  of  metaphysical  vagaries. 
Lamb  being  a  salaried  clerk  engaged  in  the  employ  of 
.^he  East  India  Company,  in  whose  service  punctuality 
was  a  requisite,  was  eager  to  hasten  to  his  business, 
but  was  greatly  at  a  loss  how  to  free  himself  from  his 
loquacious  friend.  At  last  a  happy  expedient  sug- 
gested itself, —  he  took  out  his  penknife,  carefully  cut 
the  button  from  his  coat  which  Coleridge  had  seized, 
and  noiselessly  slipped  away,  leaving  him  fully 
engrossed  with  his  theme.  At  noon  he  returned  that 
way  to  dinner,  and  there  was  Coleridge  still  standing 
in  the  same  attitude,  holding  the  button,  and  threading 
with  unabated  ardor  the  bewildering  mazes  of  his 
subtle  theme. 

Better  than  such  a  habit  of  substituting  monologue 
for  dialogue,  was  the  rule  followed  by  a  certain  eccle- 
siastical dignitary  who  was  himself  a  splendid  talker, 
but  who  made  it  a  point  to  draw  people  out  to  talk  of 
themselves,  while  he  with  all  the  art  of  a  skillful  talker 
would  become  listener.  To  engage  the  attention  of 
such  a  listener  was  a  source  of  self  satisfaction  which 
gave  them  greater  pleasure  than  to  hear  his  eloquence; 
and  thus  their  favor  was  won  and  their  friendship 
secured  more  effectively,  than  by  all  the  blandishments 
of  discourse. 

That  wise  man,  Sir  Matthew  Hale,  laid  down  this 
excellent  rule,  which  every  young  person  would  do 
well  to  bear  in  mind:  "  Let  your  words  be  few,  espe- 
cially when  your  betters,  or  strangers,  or  men  of  more 


GOOD  TALKERS  AND  TALKING. 


333 


experience  or  understanding,  are  in  the  place;  for  you 
do  yourself  at  once  two  great  mischiefs;  you  betray 
and  discover  your  own  weakness  and  folly,  and  you 
rob  yourself  of  that  opportunity  which  you  might 
otherwise  have,  to  gain  knowledge,  wisdom  and  expe- 
rience by  hearing  those  that  you  silence  by  your  im- 
pertinent talking.1' 

An  eminent  clergyman  once  administered  this  well- 
merited  rebuke  to  a  young  lady,  who  had  absorbed  the 
entire  time  of  the  company  by  her  small  talk :  "  Madam, 
before  you  withdraw,  I  have  one  piece  of  advice  to 
give  you;  and  that  is,  when  you  go  into  company 
again,  after  you  have  talked  half  an  hour  without  inter- 
mission, I  recommend  it  to  you  to  stop  awhile,  and 
see  if  any  other  of  the  company  has  anything  to  say." 

But  there  are  a  few  persons  of  such  rare  learning 
and  ability  that  one  can  well  afford,  when  in  their 
company,  to  be  only  a  listener.  Such  an  one  was  our 
gifted  countrywoman,  Margaret  Fuller  D'  Ossoli, 
whose  sad  end  will  ever  awaken  a  sympathetic  interest 
in  her  career.  We  quote  this  description  of  her  power 
and  genius,  given  by  a  brilliant  journalist:  "  What  a 
wonderful  improvisatrice  was  she!  How  all  knowl- 
edge appeared  to  be  hers,  and  all  the  variations  of  hu- 
man thought,  and  all  the  unreckoned  opulence  of 
language !  Something  was  there  of  the  queenly  and 
tyrannic  in  her  social  sway;  something  of  monopoly  in 
her  monologue :  but  who  was  not  content  to  listen  and 
to  learn?    Only  the  weak  and  the  witless  signified 


334 


GOOD  TALKERS  AND  TALKING. 


'  their  impatience  in  that  presence!  Some  said  that  it 
was  lecturing,  and  some  that  it  was  speech  making; 
this  one  hinted  at  vanity,  and  the  other  at  an  un- 
gracious engrossment  of  the  time;  but  after  all  was 
over,  however  silent  we  might  have  been,  we  seemed 
to  have  been  asking  all  the  while,  and  she  only  gra- 
ciously answering." 

The  benefits  of  well-directed  conversation,  who  can 
estimate?  There  is  a  Chinese  proverb  that  "  a  single 
conversation  across  the  table  with  a  wise  man  is  bet- 
ter than  ten  years'  study  with  books."  While  this 
may  be  an  Oriental  exaggeration  of  statement, — for  no 
social  discourse  can  take  the  place  of  a  judicious  study 
of  books, — yet  it  is  nevertheless  true,  that  nothing 
sharpens  our  intellects,  and  gives  us  the  facility  to  use 
our  mental  resources,  more  than  the  contact  of  mind 
with  mind. 

But  how  comparatively  few  good  talkers  there  are, 
and  how  lightly  is  the  art  esteemed.  And  yet,  will  it 
not  always  be  true  that  "  Words  fitly  spoken  are  like 
apples  of  gold  in. pictures  of  silver  "  ? 


(©onsolatcion  pof^  the  Dull. 


CELEBRATED  philosopher  used  to  say: 
"  The  favors  of  fortune  are  like  steep  rocks; 
only  eagles  and  creeping  things  mount  to 
the  summit.1''  The  first,  with  daring  pinions, 
mount  to  the  heights  with  a  few  vigorous  wing-strokes, 
but  they  only  reach  it  after  all ;  and  the  slow  creeping 
things  do  as  much ;  and  although  their  way  is  infinitely 
more  tiresome,  yet  the  same  goal  is  gained  at  last. 

There  are  few  who  do  not  at  some  time  come  to  the 
deliberate  conclusion  that  they  are  hopelessly  dull. 
Perhaps,  away  back  in  the  memories  of  school  life, 
they  have  a  distinct  remembrance  of  how,  with  swim- 
ming eyes  and  choking  throat,  they  were  mortified  be- 
cause they  were  not  able  to  comprehend  their  lessons, 
while  their  seat-mate  with  glib  tongue  could  rattle  it  off 
as  if  it  were  a  holiday  pastime.  And,  later  in  life,  how 
often  they  look  back  and  see  in  numberless  instances 
the  blunders  they  have  made,  and  the  mishaps  they 
brought  on  themselves,  because  they  had  not  the  acute 
perceptions,  and  the  intuitive  sharpness  of  their  more 
fortunate  neighbors.  And  yet,  in  the  great  harvest  of 
life,  the  substantial  successes  are  oftenest  reaped,  not 
by  those  whose  early  precociousness  gave  promise  of 


336 


CONSOLATION  FOR  THE  DULL. 


wonderful  powers  in  maturity,  but  rather  by  those 
who  were  looked  upon  as  dull  and  stupid;  but  who 
made  up  by  persistent  application,  what  they  lacked  in 
keenness  of  perception  and  readiness  of  comprehension. 

Lord  Campbell,  who  became  Chief  Justice  and  Lord 
Chancellor  of  England,  and  amassed  a  large  fortune, 
began  life  as  a  drudge  in  a  printing  office.  A  vigorous 
constitution  and  sound  health  was  his  capital  in  starting 
in  the  world,  and  these,  with  constant  labor  and  unflag- 
ging energy,  brought  him  up,  step  by  step,  from  the 
drudgery  of  the  printing  office  to  the  magnificent  position 
of  a  counselor  of  royalty  and  a  peer  among  peers. 

A  close  observer  thus  gives  his  impressions  on  this 
subject:  "  My  own  personal  observation  bears  me  out 
in  saying,  that  persons  of  moderate  mental  calibre  and 
medium  capacity  are  most  likely  to  live  long,  health- 
fully, happily  and  successfully,  whether  as  to  making  a 
comfortable  livelihood,  or  having  a  solid  influence  in 
society.'" 

Old  Roger  Ascham,  who  became  famous  as  the 
tutor  of  the  unfortunate  Lady  Jane  Grey,  thus  quaintly 
says:  "  In  wood  and  stone,  not  the  softest,  but  hardest, 
be  always  aptest  for  portraiture;  both  fairest  for 
pleasure,  and  most  durable  for  profit.  Hard  wits  be 
hard  to  receive,  but  sure  to  keep ;  painful  without  weari- 
ness, heedful  without  wavering,  constant  without  new 
fangleness;  bearing  heavy  things,  though  not  lightly, 
yet  willingly;  entering  hard  things,  though  not  easily, 
yet  deeply;  and  so  come  to  that  perfectness  of  learning 


CONSOLATION  FOR  THE  DULL. 


337 


m  the  end,  that  quick  wits  seem  to  hope,  but  do  not  in 
deed,  or  else  very  seldom,  attain  unto.'" 

Alexander  Humboldt,  that  great  luminary  who 
seemed,  like  Bacon,  to  make  "  all  knowledge  his  prov- 
ince,11 and  whose  comprehensive  mind  seemed  able  to 
embrace  the  whole  earth  in  its  restless  search  of  in- 
quiry, says  of  himself  that  k'in  the  first  years  of  his 
childhood,  his  tutors  were  doubtful  whether  even 
ordinary  powers  of  intelligence  would  ever  be  devel- 
oped in  him,  and  that  it  was  only  in  quite  later  boyhood 
that  he  began  to  show  any  evidence  of  mental  vigor." 

Sir  Isaac  Newton,  one  of  the  the  most  extraordinary 
intellectual  giants  of  any  age,  was  in  his  early  years  so 
dull  a  scholar,  that  his  mother  took  him  away  from 
school  with  the  intention  of  making  him  a  farmer. 

Sir  Walter  Scott,  that  prince  of  romancers,  who 
peopled  the  past  with  such  fascinating  creations  of 
his  fancy,  was  distinguished  in  his  boyhood  for  his  dull- 
ness, and  gave  no  promise  of  the  capabilities  within  him. 

Moliere,  the  great  French  dramatist,  was  so  back- 
ward in  his  youth,  that  it  was  not  until  he  had  attained 
his  fourteenth  year,  that  he  could  even  read  the  lan- 
guage which  he  afterwards  made  classical. 

A  sensible  writer,  who  betrays  an  intimate  knowl- 
edge of  the  world,  says  that  "  there  is  no  talent  so  useful 
toward  rising  in  the  world,  or  which  puts  men  more 
out  of  reach  of  fortune,  than  that  quality  generally 
possessed  by  the  dullest  sort  of  people,  and  in  common 
speech  called  discretion, — a  species  of  lower  prudence. 


338 


CONSOLATION  FOR  THE  DULL. 


by  the  assistance  of  which  people  of  the  meanest  in- 
tellect, without  any  other  qualification,  pass  through 
the  world  with  great  quality,  and  with  unusual  good 
treatment,  neither  giving  nor  taking  offence." 

One  of  Ex- President  Grant's  old  schoolmates  said: 
u  Nobody  thought,  when  Grant  was  a  boy,  that  he 
would  amount  to  much, — he  was  only  middling  in 
his  studies,  and  used  to  spend  a  great  deal  of  his 
time  in  reading  the  life  of  Napoleon,  which  interfered 
considerably  with  his  school  duties,  until  his  teacher 
put  the  book  into  the  stove."  But  he  was  punctual 
in  his  attendance,  always  amongst  the  first  in  the 
morning,  and  never  stayed  away  unless  compelled  to 
do  so  by  circumstances.  He  added,  that  after  the  cap- 
ture of  Vicksburg,  when  Grant's  old  neighbors  had  not 
heard  of  him  for  years,  a  great  many  of  them  did  not 
know,  or  ever  imagine,  that  he  was  the  boy  who  used 
to  go  to  the  old  log  school-house  in  the  hollow.  What 
valuable  life-lessons  are  suggested  by  this  short  descrip- 
tion of  the  youth  of  one  who  has  made  himself  so 
conspicuous  in  the  history  of  our  country ! 
«*#  To  be  conscious  of  our  defects  is  of  the  greatest  value 
to  us,  for  then  we  can  apply  ourselves  to  overcome  them. 

George  McDonald,  in  describing  one  of  his  characters, 
says:  "  She  was  not  by  any  means  remarkably  quick, 
but  she  knew  when  she  did  not  understand;  and  that 
is  a  sure  and  indispensable  step  towards  understanding. 
It  is  indeed  a  rarer  gift  than  the  power  of  understanding 
itself." 


CONSOLATION  FOR  THE  DULL.  339 

It  is  doubtless  owing  to  this  self-knowledge  of  their 
early  unpromising  dullness  and  stupidity,  that  so 
many  of  those,  who  have  enlarged  the  confines  of 
knowledge  and  contributed  to  the  glory  of  mankind, 
were  able  to  achieve  their  success. 

x\n  English  writer,  with  a  noble  enthusiasm,  has  ut- 
tered these  ringing  words  for  the  encouragement  of  the 
dull,  which  are  as  stirring  as  they  are  true:  "Remem- 
ber, my  dull  friends,  that  this  doctrine  of  mine,  that  a 
thing  may  have  value  without  having  the  first  value; 
that  a  thing  may  be  good  without  being  the  best,  is  in 
harmony  with  nature  and  revelation.  My  dull  brother, 
I  want  you  in  the  race  of  life  to  take  courage;  I  want 
you  to  be  where  the  dull  ones  ever  shall  shine  as  the 
stars.  Take  courage;  you  are  running  the  race  of  life, 
side  by  side  with  others  whose  feet  are  swift  and 
strong.  Do  not  falter.  You  cannot  be  first;  try  not  to 
be  last.  But  you  say,  "  I  shall  be  last,  I  fear;  in  spite 
of  my  best  efforts,  I  can  not  keep  up  with  others." 
Never  mind,  Tom;  somebody  must  be  last;  only 
don't  leave  the  race  in  despair,  and  throw  your  crown 
away.  If  you  must  be  last,  run  your  fastest — be  in  as 
soon  as  you  can,  and  in  spite  of  your  wise  folk  with 
their  wise  notions,  I  know  One  who  will  come  to  you 
and  put  his  hand  upon  your  heated  brow,  and  speak  in 
voice  so  full  of  music,  that  the  angels  will  stop  their 
singing  to  listen:  '  Never  mind,  Tom,  he  hath  done 
what  he  could.'  " 


*  ERHAPS  you  have  taken  a  part  in  private 
theatricals,  and  have  developed  a  natural 
talent  for  the  stage  which  has  surprised  your- 
self, and,  as  you  have  seen  the  actors  on  the 
real  stage,  you  have  felt  confident  that  you  could  do 
better  yourself.  You  have  been  admired  and  con- 
gratulated by  your  friends  for  your  histrionic  power, 
and  you  have  evoked  hearty  applause  from  many 
who  have  heard  you.  You  like  the  excitement; 
there  is  an  intellectual  zest  about  it  that  is  posi- 
tively delightful  ;  and  the  brilliant  costumes,  the 
flashing  footlights,  the  murmurs  of  applause,  and  the 
consciousness  of  satisfaction  whicL  comes  when  you 
feel  that  you  are  doing  well,  all  contribute  to  the  in- 
tense fascination  of  the  occasion.  You  are  told  that 
you  were  born  for  the  stage,  and  ought  to  follow  the 
bent  of  your  genius,  and,  as  you  see  the  applause  which 
greets  some  famous  actor,  you  have  an  intense  longing 
to  walk  in  the  same  path,  and  win  unfading  laurels  for 
yourself.  It  seems  a  pleasant  life,  full  of  change,  ex- 
citement and  honors,  and  promises  to  yield  you  a  rich 
pecuniary  reward.  You  have  serious  misgivings  as 
to  taking  the  step,  and  yet  you  are  inclined  to  do  so. 

34° 


STAGE-STRUCK.  34 1 

Before  taking  the  step,  think  well  over  these  consider- 
ations : 

Life  on  the  stage  is  a  dog's  life  for  any,  except  for 
those  who  stand  high  in  their  profession.  You  are  un- 
der the  control  of  managers,  who  are  often  men  of  no 
moral  character,  and  of  arrogant  and  domineering 
manners.  There  are  some  worthy  and  deserving  men 
and  women  who  go  on  the  stage,  impelled  by  necessity, 
as  they  think,  or  cherishing  a  fond  ambition  to  rise  to 
the  highest  place  in  the  profession,  but  the  greatest 
number  are  men  and  women  whose  society  will  be  of 
no  benefit,  either  to  your  moral  or  intellectual  nature. 
Then  the  life  itself  is  laborious,  and  entirely  different 
from  what  you  imagine  as  you  see  the  tinsel,  and  light, 
and  apparent  gayety  of  all  who  participate.  But  hear 
what  is  said  by  those  who  have  tried  the  experiment, 
and  have  a  personal  knowledge  of  the  whole  matter. 

That  eminent  actor,  George  Vandenhoff,  on  quitting 
the  profession  for  the  practice  of  law,  gave  this  advice 
to  any  youth  thinking  of  becoming  an  actor:  "  Go  to 
sea;  go  to  law;  go  to  church;  go  to  Italy,  and  strike 
a  blow  for  liberty;  go  to  anything  or  anywhere  that 
will  give  you  an  honest  and  decent  livelihood,  rather 
than  go  upon  the  stage.  To  any  young  lady  with  a 
similar  proclivity,  I  would  say,  1  Buy  a  sewing  ma- 
chine, and  take  in  plain  work  first;  so  shall  you  save 
much  sorrow,  bitter  disappointment,  and  secret  tears.'  " 

The  great  tragedian,  Macready ,  would  never  allow  his 
daughter  to  enter  a  theater,  and  recorded  in  his  diary 


342 


STAGE-STRUCK. 


expressions  of  dissatisfaction  with  his  profession,  so 
strong  that  at  times  he  seemed  to  loathe  it  as  an 
occupation  unbecoming  to  a  gentleman,  and  too  full  of 
temptation  to  be  followed  by  a  man  who  would  main- 
tain his  honor  as  a  Christian,  and  only  justifies  his  con- 
tinuance in  it,  by  saying  that  it  was  the  only  profession 
by  which  he  could  support  his  family. 
*-  The  celebrated  Mrs.  Kemble  said  of  acting:  "I 
devoted  myself  to  a  profession  which  I  never  liked  or 
honored,  and  about  the  very  nature  of  which  I  have 
never  been  able  to  come  to  any  very  decided  opinion. 
A  business  which  is  intense  excitement  and  factitious 
emotion,  seems  to  be  unworthy  of  a  man;  a  business 
which  is  public  exhibition,  unworthy  of  a  woman. 
Neither  have  I  ever  presented  myself  before  an  audi- 
ence without  a  shrinking  feeling  of  reluctance,  or  with- 
drawn from  their  presence  without  thinking  the  ex- 
citement I  had  undergone  unhealthy,  and  the  personal 
exhibition  odious." 

The  Rev.  John  Hall  thus  sums  up  the  results  which 
attend  theater  going,  and  they  would  apply  with  ten- 
fold more  force  to  theater  acting,  so  far  as  their  effect 
on  moral  character  is  concerned:  "Shallowness,  a 
false  standard  of  success  and  gentility,  unsettled  pur- 
poses in  life,  enervating  amusements  (he  did  not  recall 
one  theater-goer  among  his  classmates  who  attained 
success  in  life),  a  lack  of  public  spirit,  a  weak  com 
mercial  conscience,  an  exaggerated  idea  of  personal 
freedom,  and,  finally,  feebleness  in  the  religious  life,'" 


STAGE-STRUCK. 


343 


It  is  said  that  in  China  the  sons  of  play  actors  are 
excluded  from  public  life  for  three  generations.  How- 
ever intelligent,  or  educated,  or  otherwise  capable  they 
may  be,  they  are  supposed  to  inherit  such  low,  coarse 
natures  as  to  be  unfit  for  public  trusts  and  responsibil- 
ities. 

However  severe  and  unjust  such  a  rule  may  be,  it 
serves  to  show  the  demoralizing  tendency  of  theatrical 
life,  which  even  a  heathen  people  have  recognized. 

Do  not  be  carried  away,  then,  by  any  momentary 
fascinations,  or  false  estimates  of  the  stage.  Take  the 
words  and  advice  of  those  who  have  spent  in  it  the 
greater  portion  of  their  lives,  and  know  whereof  they 
speak.  If  you  have  superior  talents  that  would  adorn  the 
stage,  they  will  be  equally  valuable  somewhere  else, 
where  they  may  have  full  scope  for  all  their  powers, 
without  incurring  the  hazards  which  are  inseparable 
from  stage  life.  With  the  same  persistent  labor  that 
would  be  required  to  bring  honor  and  fortune  behind 
the  footlights,  far  more  desirable  prizes  of  life  can  be 
gained,  which  will  bring-  a  thousand-fold  more  sub- 
stantial  satisfaction.  Many  have  seen  this  clearly 
when  too  late,  and  at  the  end  of  a  fitful  and  exciting 
life  have  strongly  attested  their  disappointment. 


f?ow  Shall  03b  ^muse  Ourselves. 


ISHOP  HALL  says,  that  "Recreation  is 
intended  to  be  to  the  mind  as  whetting  is  to 
the  scythe,  to  sharpen  the  edge  of  it,  which 
otherwise  would  grow  dull  and  blunt.  He, 
therefore,  who  spends  his  whole  time  in  recreation,  is 
ever  whetting,  never  mowing ;  his  grass  may  grow  and 
his  steed  starve;  as  contrarily,  he  that  always  toils  and 
never  recreates,  is  ever  mowing,  never  whetting; 
laboring  much  to  little  purpose.  As  good  no  scythe 
as  no  edge." 

There  is  a  tendency  to  make  too  much  of  amuse- 
ments. The  children  of  to-day  have  so  many  costly 
toys  and  games,  that  they  take  little  pleasure  in 
any  of  them,  and  treat  them  as  a  matter  of  course. 
The  boy  with  his  expensive  skates  and  bicycle  is  less 
happy  than  was  his  grandfather,  with  the  little  un- 
painted  sled  which  some  member  of  the  family  made 
from  odd  board  ends.  The  girl  with  her  imported 
doll,  dressed  in  its  gorgeous  costume,  does  not  take 
half  the  comfort  with  it  that  her  grandmother  did  with 
the  rag  one  made  by  her  mother.  Our  pleasures,  like 
our  lives,  are  too  artificial;  we  need  to  go  back  to 
more  simple  ways  of  living. 

344 


HOW  SHALL  WE  AMUSE  OURSELVES. 


345 


Harriet  Beecher  Stowe  said,  that  it  may  be  set  down  as  a 
general  rule  that  people  feel  the  need  of  amusements  less 
and  less,  precisely  in  proportion  as  they  have  solid  rea- 
sons for  being  happy,  and  there  is  a  profound  philosophy 
which  underlies  this  statement.  If  we  lead  healthful 
and  simple  lives,  we  shall  not  crave,  nor  will  the  mind 
require,  exciting  amusements,  but  merely  something  to 
change  the  current  of  our  thoughts.  During  the  ter- 
rors of  the  French  Revolution,  when  blood  flowed  like 
water  in  the  streets,  the  theaters  were  crowded  most, 
when  the  excitement  was  at  the  highest  pitch;  —  the 
people  sought  to  be  amused  with  the  same  intensity 
that  they  sought  to  gratify  their  revenge.  The  same 
spirit  is  carried  out  to-day; — we  seek  our  amusements 
with  the  same  impetuosity  and  energy  that  we  transact 
our  business,  and  it  must  be  equally  exciting  and 
absorbing.  Hence  the  great  throngs  which  rush  to 
horse-races,  base-ball  matches,  brutal  prize  fight  exhi- 
bitions, and  the  most  sensational  forms  of  theatrical 
entertainments.  It  is  the  desire  to  excite  the  jaded 
powers  by  something  more  exciting,  rather  than  to  rest 
and  soothe  the  tired  system  by  natural  methods. 

There  should  be  one  fixed  principle  in  our  amuse- 
ments, the  same  as  in  any  other  conduct  of  life,  and  that 
is,  the  tendency  should  be  upward  and  not  downward; 
they  should  be  elevating  and  ennobling,  and  not 
degrading1  and  brutalizing  in  their  influence.  No 
noble,  earnest  character  would  countenance  an  amuse- 
ment that  would  lower  his  moral  tone,  or  lend  his  influ- 


34-6  HOW  SHALL  WE  AMUSE  OURSELVES. 

ence  and  example  to  anything  that  would  lower  the 
moral  tone  of  his  weaker  neighbor.  There  is  a  class 
of  amusements  which  unquestionably  has  this  tend- 
ency on  many  who  indulge  in  them,  although  they 
can  not  in  themselves  be  called  vicious,  or  immoral. 
Card  playing  and  dancing  are  amongst  these,  and 
although  many  worthy  people  may  countenance  them, 
yet  it  must  be  admitted  that  to  many  they  have  a  de- 
moralizing tendency.  The  grand,  earnest,  noble  souls 
who  are  actuated  by  lofty  aspirations  to  live  exemplary 
lives,  and  to  make  the  world  better  because  they  live 
in  it,  are  not  often  found  around  card  tables,  or  on 
dancing  floors,  while  on  the  other  hand  these  amuse- 
ments find  enthusiastic  devotees  in  the  ranks  of  the 
careless,  pleasure-seeking,  and  even  vicious  multitude. 
An  anecdote  is  related  of  a  young  man  who  had  just 
learned  to  play  cards  and  was  so  elated  with  his  success 
that  he  bought  a  pack,  and  showed  them  on  his  way 
home  to  an  old  player.  He  fingered  them  over  famil- 
iarly, and  then  returned  them,  and  said,  "  You  had  better 
go  home  and  burn  them.'"  The  young  man  was  amazed 
at  such  advice  from  such  a  source,  and  it  set  him  to  think- 
ing that  the  old  player  must  be  able  to  give  advice  if  any 
one,  and  it  made  so  deep  an  impression  upon  him  that 
he  never  played  again.  An  excellent  Christian  mother 
said  recently,  "  I  was  led  to  believe  that  if  I  would 
keep  my  boys  from  wanting  to  play  cards  away  from 
home  I  must  allow  them  in  it  under  my  eye,  and  we 
played  a  good  deal  for  a  few  months,  but  I  saw  that 


HOW  SHALL  WE  AMUSE  OURSELVES. 


347 


they  were  becoming  absorbed  and  fascinated  by  the 
chances  of  the  game;  that  it  was  fast  taking  the  place 
of  reading  and  conversation  and  all  social  life,  and  I 
began  to  realize  that  instead  of  shielding  them  from 
temptation  I  was  preparing  them  to  fall  right  in  with 
it.  We  have  no  more  to  do  with  cards  at  our  home." 
It  is  folly  to  say  that  recreation  cannot  be  found  except 
in  such  channels,  for  literature,  music,  art,  athletic  and 
parlor  games,  and  good  company,  open  a  wide  and 
rational  choice  to  all  who  may  need  it. 

The  law  of  amusements  should  come  under  the 
domain  of  the  conscience,  and  be  guided  by  that  broad 
and  far-sighted  judgment,  which  does  not  merely  con- 
sider the  present,  but  the  whole  of  life.  Our  amuse- 
ments will  then  be  rational  and  ennobling,  and  such  as 
we  can  look  back  upon  at  the  close  of  life  without 
any  regrets. 


Wkaw  Shall  Be  Done  &5roH  ©he 

Boys. 


ORACE  Mann,  when  making  an  address  at 
the  opening  of  a  reformatory  institution  for 
reclaiming  vicious  boys,  said:  "  It  will  pay 
if  only  one  boy  is  saved."  After  the  exer- 
cises were  over,  a  gentleman,  in  conversing  with  him, 
asked  him  whether  he  had  not  made  an  exaggerated 
statement.  Mr.  Mann  replied,  "  Not  if  it  was  my  boy." 
Every  boy  is  somebody's  boy,  and  is  worth  saving. 
Every  boy  contains  within  himself  wondrous  possibili- 
ties, and  no  one  knows  what  a  career  may  be  waiting 
for  the  little  freckled-faced  urchin,  wearing  patched 
clothes  and  an  old  straw  hat.  When  a  boy,  the  elo- 
quent George  Whitefield  was  a  boot-black;  Lincoln 
and  Grant  were  brought  up  in  poverty,  and  hundreds  of 
other  great  names  could  be  mentioned  whose  boyhood 
was  toilsome  and  barren.  But  although  the  home  may 
be  humble  and  poor,  the  boys  have  their  rights  in  it, 
and  if  they  are  turned  out  of  doors  and  left  to  find 
their  own  amusements  and  associations,  they  are  de- 
prived of  what  rightfully  belongs  to  them, — the  shel- 
ter and  influence  of  a  good  home.  Some  one  has  well 
taken  the  part  of  the  boys  in  this  sensible  way:  "  Does 
it  not  seem  as  if  in  some  houses  there  is  actually  no 

34* 


WHAT  SHALL  BE  DONE  WITH  THE  BOYS.  349 

place  for  the  boys?  We  do  not  mean  little  boys — - 
there  is  always  room  for  them;  they  are  petted  and 
caressed;  there  is  a  place  for  them  on  papa's  knee  and 
at  mamma's  footstool,  if  not  in  her  arms;  there  are 
loving  words,  and  many,  often  too  many,  indulgences. 
But  the  class  we  speak  of  now  are  the  schoolboys, — 
great,  noisy,  romping  fellows,  who  tread  on  your  dress, 
and  upset  your  work-basket,  and  stand  in  your  light, 
and  whistle,  and  drum,  and  shout,  and  ask  questions, 
and  contradict. 

"  So  what  is  to  be  done  with  them?  Do  they  not 
w^ant  to  be  loved  and  cherished  now  as  dearly  as  they 
were  in  that  well-remembered  time  when  they  were  the 
little  ones,  and  were  indulged,  petted  and  caressed? 
But  they  are  so  noisy,  and  wear  out  the  carpet  with 
their  thick  boots,  and  it  is  so  quiet  when  they  are  gone, 
say  the  tried  mother  and  the  fastidious  sister  and  the 
nervous  aunt ;  k  anything  for  the  sake  of  peace  '  ;  and 
away  go  the  boys  to  loaf  on  street  corners,  and  listen 
to  the  profane  and  coarse  language  of  wicked  men,  or 
they  go  to  the  unsafe  ice,  or  to  the  railroad  station,  or 
the  wharves,  or  the  other  commonplaces  of  rendezvous 
of  those  who  have  nothing  to  do  or  no  place  to  stay. 

"  But  it  is  argued  that  there  are  few  boys  who  care 
to  stay  in  the  house  after  school,  and  it  is  better  they 
should  play  in  the  open  air — all  of  which  is  true.  We 
argue  for  those  dull  days,  and  stormy  days,  and  even- 
ings, all  evenings  in  which  thev  wish  to  stav  in,  or 
ought  to  be  kept  in,  and  in  which  if  kept  in,  they  make 


350  WHAT  SHALL  BE  DONE  WITH  THE  BOYS. 

themselves  and  everybody  else  uncomfortable.  We 
protest  against  the  usages  of  those  homes  where  the 
mother  is  busy  with  her  sewing  or  her  baby,  and  the 
father  is  absorbed  with  the  newspaper  in  the  evening, 
which  he  never  reads  aloud,  and  the  boys  must  '  sit 
still  and  not  make  a  noise,'  or  go  immediately  to  bed. 
They  hear  the  merry  voices  of  other  boys  in  the  streets, 
and  long  to  be  with  them;  home  is  a  dull  place;  they 
will  soon  be  a  little  older,  and  then,  say  they,  1  we  will 
go  out  and  see  for  ourselves  what  there  is  outside 
which  we  are  forbidden  to  enjoy.'  We  protest  against 
the  usages  of  those  homes  where  the  boys  are  driven 
out  because  their  presence  is  unwelcome,  and  are 
scolded  when  they  come  in,  or  checked,  hushed  and 
restrained  at  every  outburt  of  merriment."  "  Mamma, 
were  you  ever  a  boy?"  said  a  bright-eyed,  blithe-hearted 
little  fellow,  when  reproved  by  his  mother  for  his 
merry  sport  while  at  play;  "  Were  you  ever  a  boy?" 

There  are  other  homes  where  the  boys  have  a  wel- 
come place,  where  they  are  missed  if  they  are  absent, 
and  where  there  ringing  voices  make  melody  in  the 
house.    Listen  to  the  description  of  such  a  home; 

"  I  heard  a  father,  the  other  day — a  hale,  happy 
man — praising  his  boys,  four  sturdy  fellows,  who  had 
escaped  the  dissipation  and  excitement  of  a  city 
life,  and  were  now  as  fresh  in  heart,  and  as  ruddy  in 
face,  as  when  they  prattled  about  their  mother's  knee. 
I  had  seen  so  much  of  parental  sorrow  over  sons  gone 
astray,  corrupted  physically  and  morally,  that  I  ven- 


WHAT  SHALL  BE  DONE  WITH  THE  BOYS. 


351 


tured  to  ask  my  friend,  the  happy  father,  how  it  was 
that  he  had  been  able  to  save  his  boys  from  the  con- 
tamination of  evil  associations  and  bad  habits. 

"  The  way  is  simple  enough,11  he  said,  "  neither 
original  nor  in  any  way  remarkable.  I  keep  my  boys 
at  home  evenings,  by  making  their  home  a  pleasanter 
place  than  they  can  find  elsewhere.  1  save  them  from 
the  temptation  of  frequenting  doubtful  places  for 
amusement,  by  supplying  them  with  better  pleasures 
at  home.  Many  things  which  I  considered  improper, 
or  at  least  frivolous,  I  encourage  now,  because  I  find 
my  sons  desire  them,  and  I  prefer  that  they  may 
gratify  their  desire  at  home,  and  in  their  mother's 
presence,  where  nothing  that  is  wrong  will  come,  and 
where  amusements  which  under  some  circumstances 
may  be  objectionable  lose  all  their  venom,  and  become 
innocent  and  even  elevating.  I  have  found  that  the 
danger  is  more  in  the  concomitants  of  many  amuse- 
ments than  in  the  amusements  themselves;  that  many 
things  which  will  injure  a  young  man  in  a  club,  or 
among  evil  associates,  are  harmless  when  engaged  in 
with  the  surroundings  of  a  home.  As  long  as  children 
are  children  they  will  crave  amusement,  and  no  reason- 
ing can  convince  them  that  it  is  wrong  to  gratify  their 
desire.  When  they  hear  certain  things  denounced  as 
sinful  by  those  whose  opinion  they  hold  in  reverence, 
and  are  tempted,  by  the  example  of  others  who  defend 
them,  to  disobey  their  parent's  wish,  and  participate  in 
them,    a   long    downward    step    is   taken;  parental 


352  WHAT  SHALL  BE  DONE  WITH  THE  BOYS. 

authority  and  parental  opinions  are  held  in  less  rever- 
ence; the  home  that  ostracizes  these  amusements  be- 
comes a  dull  and  tiresome  place;  and  in  secret  places, 
among  companions,  they  seek  for  them,  until  at  length 
conscience  is  seared,  filial  feeling  overcome,  and  par- 
ents are  compelled  to  sigh  over  the  lost  affections  and 
confidence  of  their  children. 

"  I  have  endeavored,"  said  this  father,  "  to  join  with 
my  boys,  and  be  a  boy  with  them  in  their  pleasures. 
And  I  do  believe  there  is  no  companion  they  are  mer- 
rier with,  .and  delight  in,  more  than  the  old  boy.  If  I 
think  a  place  of  amusement  is  innocent,  and  will 
please  them,  out  we  go  some  evening,  mother,  boys, 
girls  and  father,  and  enjoy  the  world  all  the  more  be- 
cause we  are  together  and  do  not  go  too  often. 

"  But  we  don't  care  to  be  out  from  home  much. 
We  have  a  way  among  ourselves  of  keeping  up  a  kind 
of  reading  society,  and  we  are  apt  to  get  so  engaged 
in  the  book  we  are  reading,  that  we  feel  little  like 
leaving  it." 

It  is  difficult  to  believe  that  any  vicious  boy  could 
ever  be  found  in  such  a  home  as  that,  or  that  any 
young  man  could  soon  forget  its  joys  and  blessings. 


&5HArn  Shall  Be  Done  &5hfh  the 

(Sii^ls  ? 


^VERY  father  and  mother  of  girls,  if  thev 
H  alize  their  responsibility,  must  feel  a  pe- 
\zJ^!yw3  culiar  anxiety  as  to  the  future  of  their  daugh- 
JK^r  ters.  Boys  are  rough  and  strong,  and  able 
to  undergo  hardships  and  rebuffs,  and  the  more  of  it,  the 
better  for  them,  if  they  are  made  of  the. right  stuff  ;  but 
the  girls, — they  are  of  finer  texture  and  gentler  mould, 
and  were  not  designed  for  the  fierce  conflicts  and  com- 
petition of  every-day  life.  And  yet,  they  must  go  out 
into  the  world,  must  be  exposed  to  its  snares  and 
temptations,  and,  possibly,  may  be  obliged  to  become 
wage-winners  for  their  daily  bread. 

If  in  their  early  days  they  have  been  carefully 
shielded,  and  surrounded  by  every  luxury,  so  much  the 
worse,  for  the  wheel  of  fortune  may  turn,  and  they  may 
be  compelled  to  care  for  themselves,  in  all  their  help- 
lessness and  inexperience. 

Such  possibilities  fill  the  parental  breast  with  anxiety, 
and  should  have  the  effect  of  surrounding  the  loved 
ones  with  every  possible  safeguard. 

There  are  a  few  suggestions  which,  if  heeded,  will 
greatly  lessen  the  dangers  which  have  been  intimated. 

353 


354  WHAT  SHALL  BE  DONE  WITH  THE  GIRLS. 

No  matter  what  your  fortune  promises  to  be,  your 
daughter  should  be  brought  up  from  childhood  to  be 
industrious,  and  to  make  herself  useful.  She  should 
learn  to  have  a  practical  knowledge  of  housework,  be 
taught  to  keep  her  clothes  in  order,  and,  above  all,  to 
help  herself  and  others.  This  will  check  any  tendency 
to  selfishness,  to  love  of  ease,  and  a  thoughtless  waste 
of  time,  and  will  be  an  admirable  preparation  for  the 
more  exhaustive  studies  and  duties  which  are  in  store 
for  her.  She  should  be  early  taught  to  have  self-re- 
spect, to  resent  anything  which  intrudes  upon  it,  and 
to  expect  a  deference  and  behavior  from  others  which 
will  prove  an  effectual  barrier  to  all  undue  familiarity. 
She  should  be  early  accustomed  to  detect  shams,  to 
judge  people  for  what  they  are,  to  value  character  and 
real  worth,  and  not  to  be  carried  away  by  the  super- 
ficial accompaniments  of  dress,  manners  or  pretentious 
surroundings. 

It  is  easy  for  a  child  to  be  fascinated  by  the  gew- 
gaws and  trappings  of  mere  outward  appearance,  and 
this  danger  should  be  anticipated  and  guarded  against 
in  the  home. 

She  should  be  trained  and  prepared  for  some  occu- 
pation, whereby  she  could  earn  her  own  livelihood  if 
necessary,  and  should  come  into  contact  with  life,  not 
alone  with  its  joys  and  pleasures,  but  she  should  learn 
something  of  its  trials,  sorrows  and  misfortunes,  that 
she  may  seek  to  alleviate  them  in  those  around  her. 

She  should  be  treated  by  her  parents  in  a  reasonable 


WHAT   SHALL  BE  DONE  WITH  THE  GIRLS. 


355 


manner, — as  a  pure,  confiding  being,  unsuspicious  of 
evil,  with  a  trustful  nature  and  a  guileless  heart.  The 
Lord  Christ  prayed,  "  Lead  us  not  into  temptation," 
but  thousands  of  parents  thrust  their  daughters  into 
temptation,  not  by  design,  for  all  the  world  would  not 
tempt  them  to  do  it  knowingly,  but  from  thoughtless- 
ness and  ignorance.  They  have  no  knowledge  of  the 
evils  and  dangers  on  every  side,  or  if  they  have,  hesi- 
tate to  advise  and  counsel  their  daughters  in  regard  to 
them,  and  so  fail  in  their  parental  duty.  How  many 
parents  allow  their  daughters  to  take  long  journeys 
alone,  exposed  to  all  the  dangers  and  contingencies  of 
modern  travel.  How  many  are  careless  about  the 
company  they  keep, — satisfied  so  long  as  there  is  an  ap- 
pearance of  respectability,  without  troubling  them- 
selves about  real  character  and  antecedents.  How 
many  parents  allow  domestics  in  their  homes  whose 
influence  and  character  they  know  to  be  poisonous  and 
hurtful  to  their  daughters,  but  hesitate  to  remove  them 
because  of  the  temporary  inconvenience  it  would  occa- 
sion. How  many  parents  allow  their  daughters  to 
read  the  trashiest  and  most  pernicious  French  novels, 
or  any  other  injurious  literature  which  they  may  fancy, 
without  a  protest,  or,  if  they  express  disapproval,  they 
allow  their  advice  to  be  set  aside,  because  they  can  not 
bear  to  make  them  unhappy.  How  many  parents 
allow  their  daughters  to  grow  up  with  a  few  shallow 
accomplishments,  and  with  the  expectation  that  they 
will  continue  to  live  an  idle  life  if  they  can  but  secure 


35^  WHAT  SHALL  BE  DONE  WITH  THE  GIRLS. 

a  husband  who  will  support  them.  How  many  parents, 
absorbed  in  their  cares  and  duties,  drift  along  without 
any  particular  thought  or  care  of  their  daughters, — 
they  are  allowed  to  go  to  school,  or  not,  as  they  please, 
— to  attend  church,  or  not,  according  as  they  are  in  the 
mood,  to  perform  certain  duties  or  to  neglect  them,  as 
they  may  feel  inclined,  and  their  whole  lives  go  on  in 
this  do-as-you-please  manner,  devoid  of  high  aims,  sound 
thinking  or  noble  purposes. 

These  are  homely  and  commonplace  facts,  but 
there  are  thousands  of  miserable  and  wrecked  lives, 
for  whom  the  future  holds  no  hope,  who  could  trace 
the  beginnings  of  their  downward  course  to  the  mis- 
takes  which  their  foolish  and  ignorant  parents  have 
made.  Parents  of  girls,  look  out  into  the  world  for 
them, — look  not  only  for  the  present,  but  for  the  future; 
let  your  years  of  experience  and  observation  make  you 
wise  and  discerning  in  those  things  which  will  redound 
to  their  usefulness  and  happiness  here,  and  their  eternal 
good. 


Shall  I  Send  mo  (College. 


O  many  this  is  an  important,  but  most  per- 
plexing question.  On  the  one  hand  are  the 
histories  and  examples  of  hundreds  of  our 
leading  statesmen,  bankers,  merchants  and 
business  men  who  are  self-made  men,  and  whose  expe- 
rience in  life  would  seem  to  imply  that  the  best  college 
is  an  active  and  sharp  contact  with  the  world,  while  on 
the  other  hand  are  the  counsels  of  leading  educators 
who  strongly  advise  a  collegiate  course.  Horace 
Greeley  once  said  in  an  address  to  teachers:  "  I  have 
known  not  less  than  a  thousand  thoroughly  educated, 
that  is,  expensively  educated,  men  in  New  York  — 
men  who  have  entered  German,  or  English,  or  Ameri- 
can colleges  and  been  sent  forth  with  diplomas  —  who 
are  yet  utterly  unable  to  earn  their  bread,  and  who 
are  to-day  pacing  the  stony  streets  in  a  vain  search  for 

something:  to  do."    And  thus  he  belittled  the  advan- 
ce 

tages  of  college  training.  On  the  contrary,  Dr.  Vin- 
cent, one  of  the  ablest  and  most  distinguished  educators 
of  the  century,  says  "  the  advantages  of  going  to  col- 
lege are  five-fold: 

"First.  A  boy  gets  a  general  survey  of  the  field  of 
knowledge ;  he  goes  up  a  high  mountain  and  looks  out 


358 


SHALL  I  SEND  TO  COLLEGE. 


in  every  direction  and  forms  a  general  idea  of  the 
vastness  of  the  field. 

"  Second.  He  acquires  a  certain  amount  of  mental 
discipline. 

"  Third.  He  is  stimulated  by  the  rivalry  and  com- 
petition which  he  encounters. 

"  Fourth.  The  advantage  of  contact  with  cultivated 
minds,  the  professors  and  lecturers  being  leaders  in 
every  department  of  human  thought. 

"Fifth.  It  inspires  a  man,  or  should,  to  study  all  his 
life,  and  to  grow." 

Said  he,  "If  I  wanted  to  educate  my  boy  for  a 
blacksmith,  I  should  first  send  him  to  college." 

Someone  has  pointedly  said  u  that  self-made  men 
are  indifferently  made,  and  self-educated  men  are  not 
well  educated,"  and  this  remark  is  founded  upon  a 
truth,  which  no  one  recognizes  more  than  the  men  in 
question.  The  great  majority  of  so-called  self-made 
men  earnestly  deplore  that  they  had  not  the  advan- 
tages of  a  liberal  education,  and  are  amongst  the 
warmest  advocates  of  a  college  course.  It  has  been 
found  from  careful  estimation  that  the  largest  num- 
ber of  men  who  are  leaders  in  any  department  of 
human  activity,  are  graduates  from  college.  There 
are  vigorous  and  brilliant  intellects  that  by  force  of 
native  ability,  rise  to  the  highest  positions  without  a 
collegiate  training, —  and  that  in  spite  of  early  disad- 
vantages,—  and  there  are  others  with  little  talent  and 
but  feeble  ambition,  who  with  all  the  instruction  and 


SHALL  I  SEND  TO  COLLEGE. 


359 


discipline  that  the  best  system  of  studies  can  afford, 
never  rise  above  mediocrity;  but  with  equal  natural 
ability  and  force  of  character,  the  college  graduate 
will  greatly  outstrip  the  other  in  the  race  of  life. 

It  is  often  asked,  what  is  the  use  of  spending  years 
in  the  study  of  the  dead  languages,  and  in  studies  that 
can  have  no  practical  application  to  the  work  of  life; 
but  it  must  be  borne  m  mind,  that  the  advantage  of  a 
college  training  is  not  merely  in  the  fund  of  knowledge 
which  is  accumulated,  but  in  the  discipline  which  the 
mind  receives.  What  constitutes  the  difference  be- 
tween the  men  who  succeed  and  the  men  who  fail? 
The  men  who  succeed  are  those  whose  minds  are  so 
strengthened  and  enlarged  and  disciplined  that  they  are 
the  masters  of  their  business  or  profession.  They  have 
the  comprehensive  grasp,  the  alert  mind,  the  ready 
judgment,  the  active  will,  which  enables  them  to  act 
promptly,  wisely,  and  firmly  in  case  of  emergency,  and 
to  be  masters  of  the  situation.  A  college  training,  by 
its  thorough  discipline,  sharpens  the  mind,  makes 
clearer  its  vision,  strengthens  its  grasp,  and  though  the 
knowledge  attained  may  be  in  a  measure  unused  and 
forgotten,  yet  the  discipline  remains,  and  that  largely 
constitutes  the  successful  man,  for  the  qualities  re- 
sulting from  that  discipline  are  used  as  effective 
weapons  in  the  battle  of  life. 

Wellington  said  of  a  famous  boys1  school,  whose  strict 
discipline,  and  obedience  to  duty  developed  strength  and 
manliness  of  character:  "  There  was  gained  the  victory 


360 


SHALL  I  SEND  TO  COLLEGE. 


of  Waterloo;"  and  so  we  may  say  that  in  the  severe 
studies,  the  mental  struggles,  the  close,  continuous  ap- 
plication of  the  mind  to  difficult  tasks  and  problems, 
which  come  in  a  college  training,  that  there  are  worked 
out  the  victories  which  shall  appear  in  the  arena  of 
real  conflict,  years  afterward.  There  are  many 
precious  things  which  money  cannot  buy,  and  amongst 
them  is  the  inestimable  boon  of  looking  out  on  the 
world  with  a  clear,  broad  vision,  with  a  consciousness 
that  the  mind  is  continually  enlarging  and  expanding, 
and  that  it  grows  by  what  it  feeds  upon.  With  the 
studious  habits  and  mental  discipline  acquired  during  a 
college  career,  is  it  not  likely  that  they  will  keep  the 
mind  fresh  and  active  to  the  close  of  life;  that  more  in- 
terest will  be  taken  in  great  events,  discoveries,  politi- 
cal movements,  social  problems,  and  all  that  pertains  to 
human  progress  and  well  being?  If  such  is  the  case, 
and  it  must  be  admitted,  then  a  liberal  education  is  not 
only  of  great  practical  advantage,  but  an  invaluable 
possession  which  cannot  be  estimated  from  any  pecu- 
niary standard. 


fr^HAT  l/OUNG  GQBN  F^AYE  DONE. 


P%nlpN  looking  over  the  names  of  famous  men  it  is 
surprising  to  notice  how  many  of  them  attained 
success  in  early  life.  Many  of  the  greatest 
achievements  which  the  world  has  known  were 
wrought  by  the  energy  of  youth.  There  is  encourage- 
ment to  every  young  man  in  reviewing  what  has  been 
accomplished  by  those  who  were  doubtless  sneered  at 
in  their  day,  as  unfledged  striplings.  Genius  usually 
betrays  itself  early  in  life,  and  generally  secures  recogni- 
tion before  thirty  years  is  reached. 

Alexander  the  Great  was  but  eighteen  when  he  won 
his  first  battle,  and  was  embraced  and  bidden  by  his 
father  to  seek  for  himself  another  kingdom,  as  the  one 
he  should  leave  him  would  be  too  small  for  him.  At 
twenty,  he  ascended  the  throne  of  Macedon,  and  died 
at  the  age  of  thirty-two,  the  conqueror  of  the  then 
known  world.  Hannibal  had  completed  the  subjuga- 
tion of  Spain  before  he  was  thirty.  Caesar  was  elected 
Pontifex  of  Rome  at  twenty-six,  although  he  gained 
his  military  triumphs  after  he  was  thirty.  When 
Cortez  made  his  wonderful  conquest  of  Mexico,  he 

was  little  more  than  thirty,  and  Nelson  and  Clive  had 

361 


362 


WHAT  YOUNG  MEN  HAVE  DONE. 


both  made  themselves  famous  by  their  remarkable 
military  genius  while  they  were  yet  young  men. 
Napoleon,  at  twenty-six,  was  in  command  of  the  Army 
of  the  Interior,  at  twenty-seven  he  executed  his  grand 
campaign  into  Italy  which  brought  him  such  renown, 
and  at  thirty-six  he  became  First  Consul,  and  virtual 
ruler  of  France.  Washington  at  twenty-two,  had  ac- 
quired a  reputation  as  an  able  military  commander. 

In  the  ranks  of  literature,  we  find  that  Virgil  was  the 
first  among  Latin  poets  before  he  was  thirty,  and  Hero- 
dotus, at  twenty-eight,  had  recited  his  nine  books  of 
history  at  the  Olympic  games.  Plato  at  twenty,  was  the 
friend  and  peer  of  Socrates,  and  Aristotle  at  seventeen, 
had  distinguished  himself  in  his  studies,  and  attracted  the 
attention  of  the  wisest  men.    Bacon  was  a  student  of 
law  at  sixteen,  and  even  then  had  laid  the  basis  of  his 
system  of  philosophy,  and  begun  to  revolutionize  the 
thought  of  the  world.    Sir  Isaac  Newton  when  twenty- 
four,  had  laid  the  foundation  of  his  enduring  fame. 
Shakspeare  wrote  his  "  Venus  and  Adonis  "  at  twenty- 
nine,  and  probably  was  writing  his  earliest  plays  before 
he  was  thirty.**  Spencer  published  his  first  book  at 
twenty-six,  Ben  Jonson  had  written  successful  plays 
before  he  was  twenty-five,  and  Jeremy  Taylor  at 
eighteen  was  preaching  in  St.  Paul's  Cathedral  in 
London  to  large  and  spellbound  audiences. 

Milton  was  but  seventeen  when  he  wrote  that 
exquisite  poem,  "Lines  to  a  Fair  Infant,"  and  but 
twenty-one  when  he  composed  his  u  Hymn  on  the 


WHAT  YOUNG  MEN  HAVE  DONE. 


363 


Nativity,"  the  grandest  religious  lyric  poem  in  any 
language;  Pope  composed  the  "  Ode  to  Solitude,"  and 
part  of  an  epic  poem  when  about  twelve.  At  sixteen 
he  had  begun  his  "  Pastorals,"  and  at  twenty-three  had 
finished  his  "  Essay  on  Criticism."  Dr.  Samuel  John- 
son was  in  the  full  tide  of  his  literary  career  long 
before  he  was  thirty.  All  the  writings  of  Thomas 
Chatterton,  the  most  remarkable  youthful  prodigy  in 
the  field  of  literature,  were  finished  before  he  was  eight- 
een. Burns,  Campbell,  Byron,  Shelley,  Keats,  Ten- 
nyson, our  own  poet  Bryant,  and  many  others  of  the 
most  gifted  writers,  had  done  their  most  effective 
literary  work  before  the  age  of  thirty. 

If  we  look  amongst  artists,  we  shall  find  that  Leo- 
nardo da  Vinci,  whose  extraordinary  versatility  of  gen- 
ius, as  painter,  sculptor,  architect,  engineer  and  sci- 
entist, made  him  one  of  the  most  remarkable  men  of 
any  age,  gave  evidence  of  his  wonderful  talents  in  his 
youth.  Michael  Angelo  was  little  more  than  twenty- 
one  when  he  carved  his  celebrated  colossal  statue  of 
David,  and  at  twenty-eight  competed  with  da  Vinci, 
then  in  the  zenith  of  his  fame,  for  the  commission  to 
paint  the  council  hall  at  Florence. 

At  twenty,  Raphael  had  painted  his  famous  picture, 
"The  Espousals;'1  at  twenty-five  he  was  summoned 
to  adorn  with  his  immortal  cartoons  the  walls  of  the 
Vatican. 

Amongst  musical  composers  who  evinced  their 
wonderful  genius  at  an  early  age,  was  Beethoven, 


364 


WHAT  YOUNG  MEN  HAVE  DONE. 


who  published  a  volume  of  songs  at  thirteen.  Mozart 
began  composing  when  a  child  of  four  years,  and  at 
eight  his  symphonies  formed  a  part  of  the  programme 
in  his  London  concerts.  At  sixteen  he  had  composed 
operas,  symphonies  and  many  other  works. 

Mendelssohn  began  to  perform  in  public  in  his  ninth 
year,  and  had  published  many  compositions  at  fifteen 
years  of  age.  Handel  composed  many  works  before 
he  was  thirteen,  and  wrote  an  opera  before  he  was 
twenty. 

Amongst  orators  and  statesmen  who  won  youthful 
fame,  was  William  Pitt,  who  was  Prime  Minister  of 
England  at  twenty-five ;  and  although  matched  against 
intellectual  giants,  such  as  Fox  and  Burke,  yet  he  sus- 
tained himself  with  the  greatest  success.  At  the  same 
age,  Demosthenes  was  the  greatest  orator  of  Greece, 
and  Cicero,  of  Rome. 

Grotius,  one  of  the  best  authorities  on  the  science  of 
jurisprudence,  was  in  the  practice  of  his  profession  at 
seventeen,  and  was  Attorney  General  at  the  age  of 
twenty-four. 

Gladstone,  at  thirty-three,  was  one  of  the  leaders  in 
the  British  House  of  Commons,  and  Gambetta  was,  at 
the  same  age,  the  leader  of  advanced  republican  ideas 
in  the  French  Assembly. 

Amongst  divines,  Calvin,  at  twenty-seven,  had  sent 
out  in  the  world  those  u  Institutes,"  which  have  so 
profoundly  affected  the  theological  thought  of  the 
world  ever  since. 


WHAT  YOUNG  MEN   HAVE  DONE. 


365 


At  twenty-five,  Edwards  and  Whitefield  were  the 
great  pulpit  orators  of  their  times:  and  John  "Wesley, 
when  a  mere  stripling,  had  fully  entered  on  his  extra- 
ordinary career.  Luther  was  at  the  height  of  his  in- 
fluence at  thirty-five,  and  Pascal,  at  the  age  of  sixteen, 
was  an  author  of  note. 

These  instances  might  be  multiplied,  to  show  that 
on  the  brow  of  the  young  has  been  placed  the  crown 
of  immortality. 

Young  men,  do  not  despair  simply  because  you  are 
young;  let  not  this  restrain  the  enthusiasm  and  stifle 
the  noble  aspirations  of  your  glorious  youth.  Be  as- 
sured that  what  others  have  done,  you  may  also  do. 

Upon  you  will  soon  rest  all  the  mighty  interests  of 
this  busy  world.  You  are  to  be  the  inheritors  of  sen- 
ates and  thrones,  of  powerful  states  and  populous  cities; 
you  are  to  keep  in  motion  the  white  wings  of  com- 
merce, and  the  countless  wheels  of  the  craftman's  skill ; 
to  repeat  history,  by  doing  again  what  others  have 
done  before  you.  What  a  glorious  arena  for  action 
is  yours.  How  great  the  stimulus  to  lofty  aspira- 
tions and  noble  lives. 

In  looking  over  the  record  of  what  young  men  have 
done,  how  it  should  animate  the  heart,  and  kindle  the 
desire  to  emulate  their  example,  and  to  achieve  their 
success. 


©LUG^  ©AN  DO. 


^  OST  minds  are  so  constituted  as  to  require 
a  stimulus  to  arouse  their  noblest  energies; 
and  one  of  the  best  means  to  awaken  our  dor- 
mant powers,  is  the  knowledge  of  what  oth- 
ers have  done  under  circumstances  similar  to  our  own. 
The  spirit  of  emulation  is  one  of  the  most  powerful  in- 
centives to  action  which  we  possess;  it  makes  the  dull, 
careless  student  become  a  paragon  of  industry  and  zeal, 
the  unsuccessful  business  man  watchful  and  energetic, 
and  often  brings  those  who  occupy  a  mediocre  position 
to  high  places  of  power  and  influence.  It  is  encourag- 
ing to  even  the  dullest  mind,  to  see  what  pluck  has  done 
in  spite  of  poverty,  obscurity  and  the  most  unfavorable 
circumstances,  and  how  many  of  the  world's  best 
workers  and  profoundest  thinkers  have  risen  from 
unpromising  beginnings. 

Robert  Chambers,  the  founder  of  the  great  Scotch 
publishing  house  whose  name  has  become  a  household 
word  in  thousands  of  homes,  was  in  his  youth  exceed- 
ingly poor.  From  the  profits  of  a  little  book  stall,  he 
saved  a  sum  equal  to  about  fifteen  dollars,  with  which 
he  purchased  a  second-hand  press  and  a  small  supply 

of  type.    Although  not  a  printer,  he  toiled  patiently 

366 


WHAT  PLUCK  CAN  DO. 


367 


for  several  months  to  get  out  an  edition  of  seven 
hundred  and  fifty  copies  of  a  small  song-book,  and  from 
the  sale  of  these  made  a  profit  of  about  nine  pounds. 
From  such  a  small  beginning  grew  one  of  the  largest 
publishing  houses  in  the  world. 

Mr.  Tinsley.  the  editor  of  Tinsley  s  Magazine,  and 
the  publisher  of  numerous  books,  worked  as  a  farmer's 
boy  in  his  youth,  and  received  his  education  in  a  national 
school.  Sir  Ashley  Cooper,  the  celebrated  English 
surgeon,  when  a  poor  student  in  Edinburgh  University, 
lived  in  an  upper  room  at  an  expense  of  about  a  dollar 
and  a  half  a  week.  After  he  received  permission 
to  practice,  he  went  to  London,  and  for  the  first  year 
his  whole  income  amounted  only  to  twenty-live  dollars ; 
but  this  was  the  beginning  of  a  practice  which  in  some 
years  amounted  to  over  one  hundred  thousand  dollars. 
An  incident  is  related  of  the  late  Napoleon  III.,  who, 
though  not  scrupulous  as  to  the  means  emploved  to 
accomplish  his  ends,  was  yet  a  wonderful  example  of 
what  pluck  and  energy  can  do.  At  a  dinner  party 
given  in  1  S3 7.  at  the  residence  of  Chancellor  Kent,  in 
New  York  city,  some  of  the  most  distinguished  men 
in  the  country  were  invited,  and  among  them  was  a 
young  and  rather  melancholy  and  reticent  Frenchman. 
Prof.  Morse  was  one  of  the  guests,  and  during  the 
evening  he  drew  the  attention  of  Mr.  Gallatin,  then  a 
prominent  statesman,  to  the  stranger,  observing  that  his 
forehead  indicated  great  intellect.  "  Yes."  replied  Mr. 
Gallatin,  touching  his  own  forehead  with  his  finger, 


368 


WHAT  PLUCK  CAN  DO. 


u  there  is  a  great  deal  in  that  head  of  his;  but  he  has  a 
strange  fancy.  Can  you  believe  it  ?  he  has  the  idea  that 
he  will  one  day  be  the  Emperor  of  France !  Can  you 
conceive  of  anything  more  absurd?"  It  did  seem 
absurd,  for  he  was  then  a  poor  adventurer,  an  exile 
from  his  country,  without  fortune  or  powerful  connec- 
tions, and  yet,  in  fourteen  years  after,  his  idea  became 
a  fact, —  his  dream  was  realized.  True,  before  he 
accomplished  his  purpose  there  were  long  dreary  years 
of  imprisonment,  exile,  disaster,  and  patient  labor  and 
hope,  but  he  gained  his  end  at  last. 

Mr,  Crossley,  the  founder  of  the  immense  English 
carpet  manufactory,  when  a  young  man  married  a 
thrifty  servant  girl,  who  had  saved  about  forty  pounds, 
and  with  this  they  set  up  a  shop  in  which  various  use- 
ful articles  were  sold,  until,  their  means  accumulating, 
it  was  enlarged,  when  they  restricted  themselves  to 
the  sale  of  carpets  only.  From  a  single  loom  the  busi- 
ness increased,  until  the  establishment  has  spread  into 
a  town  by  itself,  and  employs  five  thousand  people,  be- 
coming one  of  the  largest  industrial  enterprises  in  the 
world. 

Michael  Faraday  was  one  of  the  most  distinguished 
chemists  and  lecturers  in  England,  and  owed  his  success 
to  his  indomitable  energy.  He  did  not  have  even  a 
good  common-school  education  to  begin  with,  but  was 
apprenticed  to  a  bookbinder,  and  read  diligently  many 
of  the  books  sent  to  be  bound.  Some  books  on  chemis- 
try and  electricity  turned  his  attention  to  science,  and 


WHAT  PLUCK  CAN  DO. 


369 


he  began  to  make  experiments.  At  first  with  a  vial 
for  an  electrical  machine,  and  a  battery  made  by  him- 
self of  small  pieces  of  zinc  and  copper,  he  began  his 
career,  and  by  improving  every  opportunity,  steadily 
rose  in  public  esteem,  and  became  one  of  the  leading 
scientific  men  of  his  country. 

The  early  struggles  of  the  martyred  Lincoln  are 
well-known;  how  he  eagerly  devoured  by  the  light  of 
the  rude  fireplace,  the  fewr  books  he  could  obtain  in 
the  intervals  of  his  work;  how  he  split  rails  and  run  a 
flat  boat  when  a  young  man,  and  acquired  his  profession 
in  spite  of  great  obstacles. 

About  a  hundred  years  ago,  a  poor  boy,  who 
blacked  the  boots  of  the  students  of  Oxford  University, 
raised  to  himself,  by  his  bright  face  and  obliging  dis- 
position, friends  who  determined  to  assist  him  to  enter 
the  university.  He  became  a  most  diligent  student  in 
that  institution,  applying  himself  to  his  studies  with  un- 
remitting energy,  as  if  afraid  to  lose  a  moment  of  his 
time.  That  boy  is  known  to  the  world  as  one  of  the 
most  eloquent  orators  of  modern  times,  and  the  name 
of  George  Whitefield  will  long  be  honored  as  one  of 
the  noblest  characters  of  his  age. 

Erastus  Corning,  of  New  York,  too  lame  to  do  hard 
work,  commenced  life  as  a  shop  boy  in  Albany.  When 
he  first  applied  for  employment,  he  was  asked:  "  Why, 
my  little  boy,  what  can  you  do?"  "  I  can  do  what  I 
am  bid,'*  was  the  answer,  and  it  secured  him  a  place. 

Dr.  Adam  Clarke,  one  of  the  greatest  biblical  and 


37o 


WHAT  PLUCK  CAN  DO. 


oriental  scholars,  was  once  a  poor,  barefooted,  Irish 
boy,  with  such  a  passionate  love  of  learning  that  he 
would  travel  miles  to  get  a  sight  of  books  from  which 
he  could  gain  information, — following  one  time  a  camp 
of  gypsies  so  as  to  get  access  to  a  book  which  he 
wished  to  study.  So  varied  was  his  learning,  that  he 
was  on  one  occasion  introduced  to  two  Indian  gentle- 
men by  the  Duke  of  Sussex,  uncle  to  Queen  Victoria, 
with  the  remark:  "  Here  is  my  friend,  Dr.  Adam 
Clarke,  who  will  speak  Persic  and  Arabic  with  any  of 
you." 

A  remarkable  instance  of  what  pluck  can  do  was 
exhibited  by  a  lawyer  of  Philadelphia,  who  started  in 
life  as  a  farm  laborer,  but,  having  determined  to  be- 
come rich,  he  prepared  himself  and  entered  upon  the 
practice  of  law,  and,  finally,  became  worth  about  a 
million  of  dollars.  About  a  week  before  his  death,  he 
said:  "  I  started  out,  when  I  commenced  the  practice 
of  the  law,  with  the  idea  of  dying  the  richest  man  at 
the  bar  who  had  made  his  own  money.  I  believe  I 
shall;  and  that  idea  is  realized."  While  this,  as  the 
chief  purpose  of  life,  is  a  paltry  and  unworthy  ambition, 
yet  it  illustrates  what  energy  and  toil  can  accomplish. 

A  striking  incident  is  related  of  the  early  experience 
of  George  Law,  who,  in  his  day,  was  one  of  the  most 
conspicuous  financiers  and  capitalists  of  New  York 
City.  When  he  was  a  young  man,  he  went  to  New 
York,  poor  and  friendless.  One  day  he  was  walking 
along  the  streets,  hungry,  not  knowing  where  his  next 


WHAT  PLUCK   CAN  DO. 


371 


meal  would  come  from,  and  passed  a  new  building  in 
course  of  erection.  Through  some  accident,  one  of 
the  hod  carriers  fell  from  the  structure  and  dropped 
dead  at  his  feet.  Young  Law,  in  his  desperation,  ap- 
plied for  the  job  to  take  the  dead  man's  place,  and  the 
place  was  given  him.  He  went  to  work,  and  this  was 
how  one  of  the  wealthiest  and  shrewdest  New  York 
business  men  got  his  start. 

These  examples  are  but  a  few  of  the  thousands  of 
instances  where  pluck  and  an  indomitable  will  have 
made  their  way  in  spite  of  all  obstacles.  Were  the 
history  written  of  all  who,  by  these  helpers,  have 
achieved  success,  whole  libraries  would  not  contain 
their  record. 

Young  man,  do  not  let  your  heart  sink  because  you 
have  never  seen  the  inside  of  a  college,  and  possess 
only  a  common-school  education;  because  you  seem  to 
yourself  so  dull  and  stupid,  compared  to  many  who 
appear  so  quick-witted  and  wise;  because  you  may 
not  be  able  to  wear  such  good  clothes,  or  have  not  the 
easy,  polished  address  of  others,  who  are  favorites  in 
society;  because  your  arms  seem  so  short,  and  the 
prizes  of  life  so  high;  remember,  that  thousands 
have  started  in  the  world  with  advantages  infinitely 
poorer  than  your  own,  and  yet  have  left  their  names 
and  deeds  on  the  roll  of  fame;  remember,  that  the 
very  struggles  and  obstacles  which  you  think  will 
prevent  you  from  rising,  are  the  tests  by  which  jou 
are  measured,  and  if  you  have  not  the  pluck  and 


372  WHAT  PLUCK  CAN  DO. 

bravery  to  grapple  with  them,  you  are  not  worthy  to 
enter  into  the  company  of  those  great  souls  who  have 
won  the  victory. 

Think  of  Luther,  when  a  youth,  going  barefooted 
about  the  streets,  singing  for  a  morsel  of  bread;  of 
Columbus,  wandering  about  in  poverty,  begging  the 
privilege  of  being  allowed  to  discover  a  new  continent ; 
of  Bonaparte,  a  poor,  pale-faced  student,  his  body 
worn  almost  to  a  shadow  by  years  of  continued  study ; 
of  Samuel  Johnson,  walking  the  streets  of  London  for 
want  of  a  lodging;  are  the  difficulties  you  encounter 
more  formidable  than  were  theirs?  With  your  spirit 
stimulated  by  these  examples,  and  guided  by  a  pure 
principle  and  a  lofty  purpose,  you,  too,  can  achieve 
success, — not  a  success,  perhaps,  which  will  fill  the 
mouths  of  men  with  your  deeds,  for  this  is  accorded 
to  but  few,  but  the  success  of  making  the  best  of  your 
opportunities,  of  living  a  useful  life,  full  of  good  deeds 
and  influences,  and  leaving  the  world  better  than  you 
found  it. 

The  heights  by  great  men  gained  and  kept, 
Were  not  attained  by  a  sudden  flight; 

But  they,  while  their  companions  slept, 
Were  toiling  upwards  in  the  night. 

Longfellow, 


F)Ai^D  &5op^  Better  (Shan  Genius. 


SAGACIOUS  statesman,  when  told  what  a 
talented  boy  his  son  was.  exclaimed,  "  I 
would  rather  yon  had  told  me  how  industri- 
ous he  was."  "When  a  scholar  was  com- 
mended to  a  famous  educator  as  a  quick  wit.  he  would 
sav:  ik  Out  upon  him:  I  will  have  nothing  to  do  with 
him:  give  me  the  plodding  student." 

Dr.  Arnold  said:  u  That  the  difference  between 
one  man  and  another,  is  not  so  much  in  talent  as  in 
energy.''  In  looking  over  the  records  of  great  men, 
we  find  it  to  be  generally  true  that  they  were  prodig- 
ious toilers,  and  usually  attributed  their  greatness 
more  to  their  capacity  for  labor  than  to  any  remarkable 
quality  of  mind  which  they  possessed. 

Macaulav  said  of  Frederick  the  Great  that  "he 
loved  labor  for  its  own  sake.  His  exertions  were  such 
as  were  hardly  to  be  expected  from  a  human  body  or  a 
human  mind.  He  rose  at  three  in  summer  and  four  in 
winter."  The  king,  in  a  letter  to  Voltaire,  thus 
gives  a  glimpse  of  the  severe  daily  toil  to  which 
he  subjected  himself:  "As  for  my  plan  of  not 
sparing  mvself,  I  confess  that  it  is  the  same  as  before. 
The  more  one  nurses  one's  self,  the  more  feeble  and 
delicate  does  the  body  become.    My  trade  requires 


374  HARD  WORK  BETTER  THAN  GENIUS. 

toil  and  activity,  and  both  my  body  and  my  mind 
must  adapt  themselves  to  their  duty.  It  is  not  neces- 
sary that  I  should  live,  but  it  is  necessary  that  I  should 
act.  I  have  always  found  myself  the  better  for  this 
method." 

Is  it  to  be  wondered  at,  that  a  man  of  such  iron  will, 
tremendous  energy,  and  capacity  for  labor,  should,  in 
spite  of  a  feeble  constitution,  and  frequent  intense 
bodily  pain,  make  himself  one  of  the  powers  of  his  age, 
and  one  of  the  greatest  names  in  modern  history. 

It  has  been  a  popular  impression,  supported  by 
Wirts  biography  of  him,  that  Patrick  Henry  was  an 
indolent  and  rather  illiterate  young  lawyer,  who  made 
the  famous  revolutionary  speech  which  has  made  his 
name  immortal,  by  a  sublime  flight  of  genius  and  with 
but  little  preparation;  but  his  relatives  have  revealed 
to  the  world,  that  hard  work  with  him,  as  with  others, 
was  the  secret  of  his  wonderful  oratory.  He  had  a 
choice  library,  was  a  good  Latin  and  Greek  scholar, 
and  was  accustomed  to  spend  hours  daily  in  close 
study. 

Peter  the  Great  set  his  subjects  an  example  of  daunt- 
less activity.  It  was  his  custom  to  visit  workshops 
and  manufactories  of  all  descriptions,  to  learn  what  he 
could  introduce  into  his  own  country;  and  at  one  time 
he  disguised  himself  and  passed  a  whole  month  in  ex- 
tensive forges,  and  there  learned  the  trade  of  a  black- 
smith. 

Beethoven  had  the  power  to  concentrate  his  mind 


HARD  WORK  BETTER  THAN  GENIUS. 


375 


for  hours  on  his  wonderful  creations  of  harmony  ;  and 
so  abstracted  would  he  become,  that  he  was  entirety 
secluded  from  the  world  about  him.  He  would  go 
over  his  works  again  and  again,  with  the  most  patient 
care,  until  he  brought  them  to  the  utmost  degree  of 
perfection. 

Elihu  Burritt,  the  learned  blacksmith,  was  an 
apprentice  at  the  forge  from  sixteen  to  twenty-one 
years  of  age.  With  his  books  set  against  the  chimney, 
he  would  study  while  he  blew  the  bellowrs ;  and  in  this 
way  he  mastered  the  English  and  Latin  grammars, 
and  acquired  a  tolerable  knowledge  of  some  other 
languages.  Dr.  Adam  Clarke  said:  "I  have  lived 
to  know  that  the  great  secret  of  human  happiness  is 
this:  Never  suffer  vour  energies  to  stagnate.  The 
old  adage  of  k  too  many  irons  in  the  lire  '  conveys  an 
untruth.  You  cannot  have  too  many — poker,  tongs 
and  all, —  keep  them  all  going.1-  It  was  said  by  Lord 
Cecil  of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  kk  I  know  that  he  can  toil 
terribly;  "  and  Lord  Clarendon  said  of  Hampden,  that 
pure  patriot  and  wise  counselor :  "  He  was  of  an  indus- 
try and  vigilance  not  to  be  tired  out  or  wearied  bv  the 
most  laborious."  Bulwer  Lytton,  although  born  a  noble- 
man, possessed  of  fortune,  and  mingling  in  society  that 
might  be  expected  to  lead  a  man  into  habits  of  inglo- 
rious ease,  was  yet  exceedingly  industrious,  and  per- 
formed an  amount  of  labor  which  would  appall  most 
men.  He  was  the  author  of  seventy  volumes,  and 
although  he  was  so  prolific  a  writer  yet  he  did  not  neg 


376  HARD  WORK  BETTER  THAN  GENIUS. 

lect  the  requirements  of  his  high  social  position,  nor  the 
duties  of  the  political  office  which  he  was  called  to  fill. 

In  doing  this  enormous  amount  of  literary  work,  we 
are  told  that  he  only  devoted  three  hours  a  day  to 
study;  but  of  those. three  hours  he  said,  "  I  have  given 
my  whole  attention  to  what  I  was  about.'-  Goethe, 
the  great  German  poet  and  philosopher,  although  pos- 
sessed of  uncommon  natural  brilliancy  of  intellect,  was 
yet  a  prodigy  of  industry,  without  which  his  genius 
would  have  been  like  a  meteor's  flash, —  a  moment 
filling  the  heavens  with  lurid  light,  and  then  extin- 
guished forever  in  the  darkness  of  oblivion. 

A  poor  and  friendless  lad,  twelve  years  old,  while 
on  a  journey,  and  footsore  and  hungry,  called  at  a 
tavern,  and  asked  to  saw  wood  to  pay  for  a  lodging 
and  breakfast.  The  request  was  granted,  and  then 
the  waif  drifted  out  again  into  the  wide  world.  Fifty 
years  after,  he  called  there  again,  and  was  known  as 
George  Peabody,  the  banker,  one  of  the  greatest  bene- 
factors to  his  race  of  this  century. 

Such  are  the  triumphs  of  hard  work,  and  such  are 
the  transformations  it  has  wrought.  It  often  seems 
useless  and  thrown  away;  it  often  seems  fruitless  of 
results;  but  persevere,  and  it  leads  to  victory. 

A  noted  divine  once  said:    "  Of  all  work  that  pro- 
duces results,  nine-tenths  must  be  drudgery." 

Bishop  C.  H.  Fowler,  who  is  himself  an  example  of 
indomitable  energy,  has  said,  that  "  it  is  one  of  the  great 
encouragements  of  our  age,  that  ordinary  men,  with 


HARD  WORK  BETTER  THAN  GENIUS. 


377 


extraordinary  industry,  reach  the  highest  achieve- 
.  reients." 

Years  ago,  the  historian,  Motley,  came  before  the 
public,  and  at  once  took  his  place  in  the  front  rank  of 
historians.  The  secret  was  that,  patiently  and  silently, 
in  the  obscurity  of  private  life,  he  had  given  years  to 
careful  preparation,  and  the  collecting  and  arranging 
of  vast  stores  of  material  for  his  works. 

Lord  Wellington,  the  famous  "  Iron  Duke,"  the 
hero  of  Waterloo,  said,  that  "  no  one  ever  stumbled 
on  a  victor)7." 

Greatness  is  a  plant  of  slow  growth,  and  must  be 
nurtured  by  industry.    How  fitting,  then,  the  admoni- 

J  J  CD  I  I 

tion  of  that  wise  founder  of  a  commonwealth,  William 
Perm:  "  Love,  therefore,  labor:  if  thou  shouldst  not 
want  it  for  food,  thou  mayest  for  physic.  It  is  whole- 
some to  the  body,  and  good  to  the  mind;  it  prevents 
the  fruit  of  idleness  " 


<9HE  I2?EF$IIjS  OP  OVEI^WOf^. 


%7 


^  AID  Samuel  Bowles,  the  accomplished 
journalist,  to  a  friend,  just  before  his  death: 
"  Nothing  is  the  matter  with  me,  except 
thirty-five  years  of  hard  work."   He  had  fol- 


lowed his  laborious  profession  year  after  year,  with  cease- 
less and  intense  application,  and  at  last  his  indomitable 
will  and  ardent  enthusiasm  could  sustain  him  no  longer, 
his  vitality  was  exhausted,  the  overworked  system  was 
worn  out,  and  the  end  speedily  came.  His  valuable 
life  and  services  might  probably  have  been  saved  for 
ten  or  twenty  years  longer,  had  he  taken  a  wise  pre- 
caution in  time  in  regard  to  his  health.  This  is  the 
history  of  thousands  of  our  best  business  men,  who  are 
cut  off  by  overwork  long  before  they  reach  old  age. 

It  has  been  said  of  Mendelssohn,  the  eminent  composer, 
that  "  His  premature  death  was  as  complete  a  case 
of  suicide  as  if  he  had  daily  opened  a  vein  in  his  arm, 
and  deprived  himself  of  an  ounce  of  blood.  He  lived 
at  high-pressure  speed  wherever  he  was,  and  whatever 
he  was  doing.  When  he  was  paying  his  addresses  to 
the  lady  whom  he  soon  after  married,  he  was  so  ill 
through  excitement  that  his  doctor  sent  him  off  to 
take  a  course  of  sea-bathing  to  strengthen  his  nerves 
before  he  made  the  lady  the  offer  he  was  contemplat- 


378 


THE  PERILS  OF  OVERWORK. 


379 


ing.  After  the  sister's  death,  which  told  so  heavily 
upon  him,  he  resumed  his  labors  with  eager  haste  and 
burning  zeal,  in  spite  of  repeated  headaches  and 
attacks  of  faintness.  His  wife  in  vain  entreated  him 
to  spare  himself.  '  Let  me  work  on,1  he  said.  '  For 
me,  too,  the  hour  of  rest  will  come.'  When  his 
friends  assailed  him  with  similar  remonstrances  he 
replied,  '  Let  me  work  while  it  is  yet  day.  Who 
can  tell  how  soon  the  bell  may  toll?1  Who,  indeed, 
they  might  have  added,  when  the  first  laws  of  nature 
are  violated?  " 

The  old  proverb,  that  "It  is  the  last  straw  that 
breaks  the  camel's  back,"  has  a  significant  application 
when  applied  to  overtaxing  our  physical  powers. 
The  human  system  is  capable  of  performing  an 
immense  amount  of  labor  without  injury,  but  the  labor 
accomplished  after  we  reach  the  point  of  endurance  is 
comparatively  small,  so  that  there  is  reallv  but  little 
gained  by  over-working,  even  in  the  amount  of  labor 
performed.  Many  a  man  breaks  himself  down,  and 
either  dies  prematurely,  or  else  becomes  unable  to  do 
a  man's  work,  just  because  he  does  not  heed  the  warn- 
ings of  his  exhausted  nature,  and  stop  in  time. 

How  much  better  to  keep  safely  within  the  limit  of 
one's  powers,  even  looked  upon  as  a  matter  of  capacity 
for  work,  to  say  nothing  of  prolonging  life.  Some  one 
has  called  attention  to  this  universal  evil  in  these  words : 

"  As  a  nation,  we  are  notoriously  an  active,  restless 
race  of  people.    Each  minute  must  turn  out  coin  of 


38o 


THE  PERILS  OF  OVERWORK. 


less  or  greater  denomination,  or  must  add  to  the 
laurels  of  our  brows,  else  the  poor-house  is  brought 
into  the  imagination,  or  the  spectre  of  a  fameless  name 
haunts  our  sleeping  and  our  waking  hours.  We  be- 
grudge ourselves  the  respite  of  the  legal  holidays,  and, 
if  it  were  wholly  a  matter  of  choice,  and  were  con- 
sidered to  be  the  proper  thing  to  do,  we  would  even 
toil  on  the  Sabbath,  if  we  could  thereby  increase 
our  stock  of  gain  or  fame.  Of  all  the  evils  which 
spring  from  love  of  money,  none  are  more  to  be  de- 
plored than  that  inordinate  desire  for  wealth  or  fame 
which  is  gratified  at  the  expense  of  health.  We  must 
rest.  Take  life  easier.  Carry  our  vacations  along 
with  us — not  postpone  them  until  too  late.  Nature 
demands  daily  rest.  She  will  have  it,  or  ruin  impends. 
The  increase  of  paralysis  and  apoplexy  is  not  due  to 
extraneous  and  accidental  causes,  by  no  means.  We 
bring  them  upon  ourselves  by  our  habitual  "  digging." 
We  exhaust  ourselves  in  a  few  years,  and  then  death 
gathers  us  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye.  As  a  people, 
we  need  education  in  the  science  of  "taking  a  rest." 

Another  writer  has  forcibly  noticed  some  of  the  re- 
sults of  this  incessant  strain,  and  his  views  will  be  con- 
firmed by  the  most  skillful  medical  authorities.  He 
says:  "  Everywhere  the  increase  of  nervous  disorders 
shows  the  fearful  strain  which  life  in  the  crowded  por- 
tions of  this  country  makes  upon  the  vital  powers. 
The  statistics  of  Chicago,  the  typical  American  city 
for  business  energy,  show  that  her  unexampled  growth 


THE  PERILS  OF  OVERWORK. 


38i 


has  been  accompanied  by  a  fearful  increase  in  the  re- 
lative number  of  nervous  diseases.  These  facts,  which 
are  more  or  less  true  of  all  our  cities,  inculcate  a  ter- 
rible lesson  of  the  dangers  of  our  feverish  passion  for 
excitement.  Incessant  hurry  alike  in  business  and 
pleasure,  and  the  consequent  lack  of  the  steadiness 
which  orives  stabilitv  to  character  and  life,  are  leaving 
their  traces  in  many  premature  graves  and  broken- 
down  constitutions,  and  in  the  physical  and  mental  ten- 
dencies which  will  transmit  to  future  generations  the 
evils  of  the  present.  In  view  of  the  rapid  rate  at 
which  we  are  rushing  to  wealth  and  exhaustion,  is  it 
not  time  to  sound  the  warning  cry?" 

These  observations  are  applicable  alike  to  both 
sexes,  for  all  over  our  country  there  are  thousands  of 
wives  and  mothers  who  are  overtaxing  their  powers 
and  breaking  down  under  the  strain  of  overwork,  even 
before  they  reach  middle  life.  The  following  is  given 
as  an  incident  from  real  life,  and  it  is  not  as  much  of 
an  exaggeration  in  many  cases  as  might  be  supposed. 
A  farmer,  on  meeting  the  neighborhood  physician,  said: 
"  If  you  git  out  my  way  any  time,  doctor,  I  wish  you'd 
stop  and  see  my  wife.    She  says  she  aint  feelin1  well." 

''What  are  some  of  her  symptoms?" 

u  Well,  I  dunno.  This  mornin',  after  she'd  milked 
the  cows,  and  fed  the  stock,  and  got  breakfast  for  the 
hands,  and  washed  the  dishes,  and  built  a  fire  under 
her  soft-soap  kettle,  and  done  a  few  chores  'bout  the 
house,  she   complained    o"    feelin'    kinder   tired.  I 


382  THE  PERILS  OF  OVERWORK. 

shouldn't  be  s 'prised  if  her  blood  was  out  o'  order,  and 
I'd  hate  to  have  her  git  down  sick,  with  the  busy 
season  just  comin'  on.  Mebbe  you'd  better  give  me  a 
dose  of  medicine  for  her." 

We  are  responsible  for  the  care  of  our  bodies,  and 
why  should  we  not  exercise  at  least  as  much  judgment 
and  discretion  in  their  use  as  we  should  if  using  a  deli- 
cate piece  of  mechanism.  Some  one  has  said  that  a 
man  is  a  fool  if  he  does  not  understand  the  care,  the 
needs,  and  the  capacity  for  labor  of  his  mind  and  body 
by  the  time  he  is  forty  years  of  age,  and  with  reason- 
able precautions  and  moderation,  life  can  not  only  be 
prolonged,  but  pain  be  prevented,  serious  pecuniary 
losses  averted  and  an  immeasurable  store  of  happiness 
and  blessings  added  to  our  experience.  The  wealth  of 
a  Crcesus,  or  all  the  laurels  that  fame  can  bring,  afford 
poor  consolation  to  their  possessor,  if  they  have  been 
gained  at  the  cost  of  a  worn-out  system,  or  even  en- 
feebled energies.  And  yet,  how  many,  in  their  mad 
haste  for  these  fleeting  shadows,  are  not  only  wasting 
their  capacity  to  enjoy  life,  but  also  cutting  short  their 
careers  with  a  profligate's  folly. 


;  r  has  been  said  by  one,  who,  doubtless,  suf- 
fered from  the  pangs  of  ill-health,  that tk  of  the 
V*(§C  nundred  good  things  in  this  life,  nintv-nine  are 
health."  And  yet,  so  long  as  we  are  well  we 
do  not  realize  it,  nor  do  we  value  sound  health  as  one 
of  the  choicest  boons  that  can  be  bestowed  upon  us, 
until  it  is  ours  no  longer.  It  has  been  said  that  "  all 
admit  it  a.  sin  to  steal,  but  it  is  no  less  a  sin  to  break 
laws  on  which  the  very  potency  of  bodily  organization 
is  founded,  or  those  laws  on  which  mind  power  turns." 
The  greatest  danger  to  health  is  in  the  small  beginning 
of  diseases.  If  the  simple  maxim,  which  it  is  said  has 
been  borne  to  us  on  the  hoary  centuries  from  old  Plutarch, 
had  been  observed,  what  vast  multitudes  would  have 
been  spared  from  the  ravages  of  disease.  "  Keep  your 
head  cool,  and  your  feet  warm.  Instead  of  employing 
medicine  for  every  indisposition,  rather  fast  a  day,  and 
while  you  attend  to  the  body,  never  neglect  the  mind.1' 
The  celebrated  Dr.  Abernethy,  one  of  the  brightest 
ornaments  that  ever  adorned  the  medical  profession, 
thus  states  the  causes  of  disease:  "  I  tell  you,  honestly, 
what  I  think  is  the  cause  of  the  complicated  maladies 
of  the  human  race, — it  is  their  gourmandizing,  and  stuff- 
ing, and  stimulating  their  digestive  organs  to  an  excess, 

3S3 


3^4 


HOW  TO  KEEP  WELL. 


thereby  producing  nervous  disorders  and  irritations. 
The  state  of  their  mind  is  another  grand  cause, — the 
fidgeting  and  discontenting  themselves  about  what 
cannot  be  helped;  passions  of  all  kinds — malignant  pas- 
sions pressing  upon  the  mind  disturb  the  cerebral  ac- 
tion, and  do  much  harm." 

One  of  the  most  eminent  physicians  of  our  own 
country  stated  in  a  public  lecture,  that  the  art  of  health 
consists  primarily  in  judicious  diet. 

There  is  an  old  English  proverb  which  says,  that 
the  best  physicians  are  Dr.  Diet,  Dr.  Quiet,  and  Dr. 
Merryman. 

A  noted  physician,  whose  writings  have  done  much 
to  set  before  the  people  the  simplicity  of  preserving 
good  health,  says  that  the  best  medicine  in  the  world, 
more  efficient  to  cure  disease  than  all  the  potencies  of 
the  materia  medica,  are  warmth,  rest,  cleanliness,  and 
pure  air. 

It  is  said  that  when  one  of  the  most  renowned  physi- 
cians in  France  was  on  his  death-bed,  he  was  visited  by 
the  foremost  medical  men  of  Paris,  who  deplored  the 
loss  which  the  profession  would  sustain  in  the  death  of 
one  whom  they  looked  upon  as  occupying  the  first 
place.  The  dying  man  assured  them  that  he  left  be- 
hind three  physicians  much  greater  than  himself,  and 
when  asked  their  names,  replied:  "  Their  names  are 
Water,  Exercise  and  Diet.  Call  in  the  services  of  the 
first  freely,  of  the  second  regularly,  and  the  third 
moderately.    Follow  this  advice  and  you  may  well 


HOW  TO  KEEP  WELL.  385 

dispense  with  my  aid.  Living,  I  could  do  nothing 
without  them;  and  dying,  I  shall  not  be  missed,  if  you 
make  friends  of  these  my  faithful  coadjutors.'1 

From  the  accumulated  wisdom  of  these  illustrious 
medical  experts,  we  rind  that  the  preservation  of  health 
can  be  reduced  to  a  few  simple  rules.  Eat  plain,  well- 
cooked,  nutricious  food,  which  will  make  good  blood: 
eat  deliberately,  masticate  thoroughly,  and  partake 
but  moderately  of  any  liquid  at  meals.  The  ice  water 
which  is  drank  so  freely  by  many  at  their  meals,  is  of 
great  injur}-  to  the  stomach. 

In  regard  to  the  quantity  of  food,  be  guided  by  your 
occupation  and  bodily  condition.    If  of  delicate  con 
stitution  and  sedentary  life,  eat  lightly:  but  if  of  robust 
health  and  active  life,  the  appetite  is  a  safe  monitor. 

It  is  said  that  if  one  wishes  to  become  fleshy,  a  pint 
of  milk,  taken  before  retiring  every  night,  will  soon 
produce  that  result. 

Never  begin  a  journey  before  breakfast  is  eaten,  as 
the  system  is  then  more  susceptible  to  disease  and 
malarial  influences. 

Cleanliness  is  required  not  only  for  health,  but  de~ 
manded  by  decency.  Carlyle  is  not  too  extravagant 
in  his  expressions,  when  he  thus  enumerates  the  phys- 
ical and  moral  renovation  of  this  virtue'  "What 
worship  is  there  not  in  mere  washing?  Perhaps  one 
of  the  most  moral  things  a  man  in  common  cases  ha- 
it  in  his  power  to  do.  Strip  thyself,  go  into  the  bath, 
or  were  it  into  the  limpid  pool  of  a  running  brook. 


386 


HOW  TO  KEEP  WELL. 


and  there  wash,  and  be  clean ;  thou  wilt  step  out  again 
a  purer  and  a  better  man.  This  consciousness  of  per- 
fect outward  purity, — that  to  thy  skin  there  now  ad- 
heres no  foreign  speck  or  imperfection, — how  it  radi- 
ates on  thee  with  cunning  symbolic  influences  to  thy 
very  soul!  Thou  hast  an  increased  tendency  toward 
all  good  things  whatsoever."" 

In  our  variable  climate  of  many  severe  changes, 
warmth  is  an  important  requisite  to  health.  In  cold 
and  changeable  weather  wear  flannel  next  to  the  skin. 
The  neglect  to  do  this  is  the  most  frequent  cause  of 
that  terrible  affliction,  rheumatism.  Those  who  are 
easily  chilled  on  going  out  of  doors,  should  give  addi- 
tional protection  to  the  lungs. 

Never  stand  still  when  out  of  doors  in  cold  weather, 
after  becoming  warmed  by  exercise.  In  going  into  a 
colder  air,  keep  the  mouth  closed,  so  that  the  air,  in 
passing  through  the  nose  and  head,  may  become 
warmed  before  reaching  the  lungs,  thus  preventing 
those  shocks  and  chills  which  often  lead  to  pleurisy, 
pneumonia,  and  bronchial  diseases.  George  Catlin, 
famous  for  his  life  among  the  Indians,  thought  that  the 
Indian  habit  of  breathing  through  the  nostrils,  instead  of 
through  the  mouth,  is  one  chief  cause  of  their  fine  health. 

After  speaking  or  singing  in  a  warm  room  in  winter, 
do  not  leave  the  room  until  you  have  somewhat  cooled 
off,  and  then  take  the  precaution  of  protecting  yourself 
well  from  the  change  of  temperature. 

But  of  all  parts  of  the  body,  there  is  not  one  which 


HOW  TO  KEEP  WELL. 


387 


should  be  more  carefully  attended  to  than  the  feet. 
Wear  good  woolen  stockings  and  thick-soled  boots 
and  shoes  in  cold  weather.  The  feet  are  so  far  distant 
from  the  heart  that  the  circulation  may  be  easily 
checked,  and  serious,  or  even  fatal,  illness  follow. 
India  rubber  overshoes  should  not  be  worn  except  in 
wet  weather,  as  they  obstruct  the  perspiration  from 
the  pores  of  the  skin. 

The  next  essential  to  good  health  is  rest.  The  body 
must  repair  the  waste  which  it  suffers,  or  it  will  soon 
wear  away.  In  this  high-pressure  age,  when  so  intense 
a  strain  is  put  on  the  nervous  system,  much  sleep  is 
required  to  repair  the  waste  which  the  body  has  under- 
gone during  the  day.  The  brain  needs  rest  one-third 
of  the  time, — eight  hours  of  sleep  against  sixteen  hours 
of  activity. 

The  importance  of  sleep  cannot  be  over-estimated. 
It  is  as  essential  to  life  and  happiness  as  the  air  we 
breathe.  Some  one  has  said,  that  of  two  men  or  wo- 
men, equally  healthy,  the  one  who  sleeps  the  best  will 
be  the  most  moral,  healthy  and  efficient.  Sleep  will 
do  much  toward  curing  irritability  of  temper,  peevish- 
ness and  uneasiness.  It  will  restore  to  vigor  an  over- 
worked brain,  and  thus  prevent  insanity.  It  will  build 
up  and  make  strong  a  weary  body.  It  is  the  best  thing 
to  dissipate  a  fit  of  the  blues,  and  it  is  a  balm  to  sorrow. 

Cervantes,  in  his  Don  Quixote,  makes  the  jovial 
Sancho  Panza  to  say:  "Now,  blessings  on  him  that 
first  invented  sleep !  it  covers  a  man  all  over,  thoughts 


388 


HOW  TO  KEEP  WELL. 


and  all,  like  a  cloak;  it  is  meat  for  the  hungry,  drink 
for  the  thirsty,  heat  for  the  cold,  and  cold  for  the  hot.'' 

But,  suppose  the  brain  is  too  excited  to  sleep,  how 
then  can  this  great  healer  be  secured?  As  sleepless- 
ness is  caused  by  an  undue  flow  of  blood  to  the  brain, 
whatever  will  draw  this  away  will  tend  to  produce 
sleep.  Toasting  the  feet  at  the  fire,  or  taking  a  foot 
bath,  will  draw  the  blood  to  the  extremities;  or,  rub- 
bing the  body  with  a  rough  towel,  after  taking  a  warm 
bath,  will  restore  the  usual  circulation  and  relieve  the 
brain.  Edward  Everett  Hale  tells  of  a  plan  he  tried  with 
success, — that  of  fixing  the  eyes,  while  in  bed,  on  a  fixed 
object,  and  looking  steadily  at  it  without  once  winking. 

Pure  air  and  good  ventilation  are  indispensable  to 
good  health.  How  many  thousands  have  been  carried 
to  the  grave  by  fevers  and  malarial  diseases,  which 
were  ignorantly  supposed  to  be  beyond  human  inter- 
position, but  which  were  directly  caused  by  defective 
sewerage,  or  a  cellar  steaming  with  rotting  vegetables, 
thus  filling  the  house  with  deadly  poison.  How  often 
do  men  unthinkingly  build  their  houses  in  unhealthy 
localities,  and  thus  bring  upon  themselves  and  their 
families  the  fearful  penalties  of  disease. 

It  is  said  that  the  ancestors  of  the  late  Theodore 
Parker,  of  Boston,  on  both  his  father's  and  mother's 
side,  were  a  healthy  and  long-lived  race,  and  yet  nine 
of  his  brothers  and  sisters,  including  himself,  died  of 
consumption,  besides  many  in  other  branches  of  the 
family  of  the  same  generation.     He  attributed  this  to 


HOW  TO  KEEP  WELL. 


3S9 


the  location  of  the  family  homestead  in  the  midst  of 
wet  ground,  and  near  a  peat  bed  from  which  dense 
fogs  would  often  arise  and  envelop  the  house,  and  to 
this  dampness  he  attributed  their  loss  of  health. 

The  seeds  of  disease  carried  from  festering  masses 
of  filth  in  sewer  or  fog,  are  silent,  stealthy  and  unseen, 
and  they  penetrate  into  the  gilded  palace  as  well  as  the 
lowly  hovel,  and  find  lodgment  alike  in  the  forms  of  the 
rich  and  poor. 

To  keep  well  requires  more  than  a  sound  body — 
there  must  also  be  a  happy  and  contented  mind. 

Dr.  Hall  says,  that  one  of  the  most  important  pro- 
moters of  health  is  the  getting  along  smoothly  in  the 
world.  No  doubt  the  growing  prevalence  of  diseases 
of  the  stomach,  heart  and  the  nervous  system  is  mainly 
caused  by  the  terrible  pace  at  which  we  drive  ourselves. 
Our  days  are  often  full  of  toil  and  weariness;  our 
nights  of  sleepless  unrest;  we  are  perplexed  with  the 
present;  we  see  portentous  clouds  in  the  future,  and  so 
life  becomes  a  fitful  struggle  with  care  and  anxiety. 
No  wonder  the  delicate  organism  of  our  body  gets  out 
of  order,  with  such  a  fearful  wear  and  tear  going  on, — 
it  is  often  more  of  a  wonder  that  a  few  months  of  such 
experience  do  not  bring  the  destruction,  which  it  often 
requires  years  to  accomplish.  With  a  contented  mind 
and  a  sound  body,  as  the  result  of  the  observance  of 
the  laws  of  health,  there  will  come  the  reward  of  a  long 
life,  blessed  with  all  the  rational  enjoyments  which  the 
world  can  bestow. 


(She  Sin  op  &5or^Y. 


iFfjfj^fF  HE  Duke  of  Wellington,  when  asked  his 
^Jl[k^  secret  of  winning  battles,  replied  that  he  had 
y^'j^  no  secret? — tnat  ne  did  not  know  how  to  win 
a  battle,  nor  did  any  one  know.  That  all  a 
man  could  do  was  to  look  beforehand  at  all  the  chances, 
and  lay  all  possible  plans;  but  from  the  moment  the 
battle  began,  no  mortal  prudence  could  insure  success; 
a  thousand  new  accidents  might  spring  up  and  scatter 
his  plans  to  the  winds;  and  all  that  man  could  do  was 
to  do  his  best,  and  trust  in  God.  In  other  words,  he 
meant  that  it  was  no  use  to  worry  about  the  result, 
after  everything  had  been  done  that  the  utmost  caution 
and  watchfulness  could  dictate.  The  words  of  the 
famous  warrior  are  applicable  to  every  calling  in  life. 
One  of  the  sins  of  the  age  is  this  habit  of  useless  worry 
—  this  attempt  to  carry  not  only  the  burdens  of  to-day, 
but  those  of  to-morrow.  Charles  Kingsley,  a  man  who 
performed  an  immense  amount  of  labor,  said,  "  I  know 
of  nothing  that  cripples  a  man  more,  and  hinders  him 
working  manfully,  than  anxiety.1''  Men  do  not  die 
from  hard  work,  so  much  as  from  the  fret  and  worry 
which  accompanies  it.  Of  course,  much  thought  is 
required  for  the  future,  but  there  is  a  point  beyond 

39o 


THE  SIN  OF  WORRY.  39 1 

which  thought  becomes  wasted,  and  is  merged  into 
anxiety. 

It  is  said  that  one  of  Cromwell's  officers  was  so  dis- 
turbed in  mind  over  the  state  of  the  nation,  that 
he  could  not  sleep.  His  servant  noticing  it.  asked 
leave  to  ask  him  a  question.  k' Do  you  not  think." 
he  inquired,  "  that  God  governed  the  world  very 
well  before  you  came  into  it?  "  "  Undoubtedly. v  was 
the  reply.  "  And  do  you  not  think  that  he  will 
govern  it  quite  as  well  when  you  are  gone  out  of  it?  " 
"  Certainly/'  "  Then,  pray  sir,  excuse  me,  but  do  you 
not  think  that  you  may  trust  Him  to  govern  it  as  long 
as  you  live  in  it?  "  This  was  such  a  sensible  view  of 
the  matter  that  he  at  once  accepted  its  truth,  and  soon 
composure  and  sleep  followed.  We  vex  ourselves 
often,  because  we  think  everything  goes  wrong  and  is 
doomed  to  destruction:  but  in  spite  of  our  fears,  the 
world  moves  on  the  same  as  before,  and  the  seasons 
come  and  go.  bringing  seedtime  and  harvest  in  their 
appointed  times  to  bless  the  earth  with  plenty. 

In  the  wilds  of  Colorado  there  are  massive  red  sand- 
stone rocks  which  have  been  fashioned  into  all  sorts  of 
grotesque  and  uncouth  shapes  by  little  grains  of  sand, 
which  the  fierce  winds  have  hurled  against  them  for 
ages;  and  so  there  are  characters  which  are  being  dis- 
torted into  forms  of  moral  repulsiveness  by  the  storms 
of  fretfulness  and  petulance  which  sweep  over  them 
day  after  day. 

How  the  good  influence  of  many  parents  over  their 


392 


THE  SIN  OF  WORRY. 


children  is  destroyed  by  the  constant  tone  of  worry 
which  they  allow  to  pervade  the  home,  and  make  it  a 
place  to  be  shunned.  How  many  invalids  make  life 
more  wretched  to  themselves  and  all  about  them,  by  a 
habit  of  querulous  complaining,  indulged  in  for  long 
years;  and  how  many  strong  minds  have  been 
dethroned,  and  their  light  forever  quenched  by  its 
baneful  influence. 

Sir  Walter  Scott  had  a  capacity  for  labor  which 
was  simply  marvelous.  Volumes  came  from  his  pen 
with  such  rapidity,  that  he  was  called  "  The  Wizard 
of  the  North,"  and  the  world  might  well  be  astonished 
at  the  fertility  of  his  genius,  and  the  fruits  of  his  unre- 
mitting industry.  But  when,  in  addition  to  this  ardu- 
ous labor,  his  mind  yielded  to  misgivings  and  over- 
anxiety,  it  could  not  longer  endure  the  strain  of  the 
double  burden,  and  it  gave  way,  and  he  became  a 
wreck  of  his  former  self. 

The  poet  Southey  was  a  man  of  unremitting  toil, 
and  worked  as  steadily  at  his  literary  tasks  as  the 
artisan  at  his  bench;  and  so  long  as  his  mind  was  free 
from  care,  he  did  this  with  ease  and  comfort  to  him- 
self. But  when,  in  addition  to  this,  he  watched  at  the 
bedside  of  his  sick  wife,  and  allowed  his  mind  to  be- 
come unduly  anxious  and  worried  on  account  of  her, 
his  brain  gave  way  under  the  pressure,  and  he  became 
hopelessly  insane. 

Hugh  Miller,  the  famous  geologist  and  author,  was 
a  man  of  iron  constitution,  who  raised  himself  by  the 


THE  SIN  OF  WORRY. 


393 


strength  and  activity  of  his  mind,  from  a  humble 
position  to  one  of  world-wide  renown ;  yet,  when  he  be- 
came harrassed  by  controversies,  his  mind,  which  before 
had  worked  easily  and  smoothly,  became  embittered 
and  unbalanced,  and  in  a  moment  of  temporary  insanity 
he  terminated  his  life  by  his  own  hands. 

The  sin  of  worry  is  one  of  the  most  universal  foes  to 
happiness.  It  will  mar  the  fairest  face,  and  spoil  the 
sunniest  temper,  and  it  is  as  destructive  to  everything 
lovable  and  attractive  as  it  is  useless  and  unneces- 
sary. 

j 

Beware,  then,  of  this  evil  habit.  If  care  and  sorrow 
must  come,  as  they  inevitably  will,  bear  them  with 
patience  and  resignation,  as  part  of  the  necessary  dis- 
cipline of  life.  Form  the  habit  when  trials  come,  of 
being  thankful  that  they  are  no  worse;  and  instead  of 
directing  your  thoughts  continually  to  yourself,  let 
them  go  out  to  others  who  are  more  unfortunate.  In 
this  way  can  the  evil  spirits  of  discontent  and  worry 
be  driven  away,  and  peace,  harmony  and  thankfulness 
be  restored  to  the  disturbed  soul. 


OUI^  P^BAYENLY  F?OME. 


S  the  weary  traveler,  at  the  close  of  a  long 
voyage,  hails  with  delight  every  token  which 
assures  him  that  he  is  nearing  the  haven 
of  his  desire,  and  sends  out  loving  thoughts 
to  the  dear  ones  who  are  awaiting  him  there,  so  does 
the  Christian,  as  he  nears  his  heavenly  home  after  be- 
ing long  tossed  about  by  the  tempestuous  gales  of  life, 
often  feel  an  unutterable  longing  to  reach  its  peaceful 
shore,  and  be  at  rest  with  the  dear  ones  who  are  wait- 
ing to  welcome  him. 

Such  an  one  gave  expression  to  the  yearnings  of  his 
heart  in  the  following  lines: 

"Oh!  bring  us  home  at  last, 

Thou  who  didst  guide  us  when  our  morn  was  bright; 
Darkness  is  falling  fast, 

Gather  thy  children  home  before  the  night. 

"Oh!  bring  us  home  at  last, 

The  evening  mists  steal  o'er  us,  damp  and  chill. 
While  autumn's  moaning  blast 

Sweeps  in  sad  music  over  vale  and  hill. 

"Oh!  bring  us  home  at  last, 

Our  Father!  Bid  our  weary  wanderings  cease, 
Uplift  the  vail  o'ercast 

Between  our  spirits  and  the  home  of  peace." 

Said  an  aged  Christian,  as  he  neared  the  close  of 

life:    "I  am  going  home  as  fast  as  I  can,  as  every 

394 


OUR  HEAVENLY  HOME. 


395 


honest  man  ought  to  do  after  his  day's  work  is  over; 
and  I  bless  God  that  I  have  a  good  home  to  go  to." 

Home  and  Heaven!  Words  full  of  love  and  hope, 
and  joy  unending.  Said  one  whose  eyes  already  seemed 
to  see  the  ineffable  glories  of  the  better  land:  "Beat 
on,  O  heart !  and  yearn  for  dying.  I  have  drunk  at 
many  a  fountain,  but  thirst  came  again;  I  have  fed  at 
many  a  bounteous  table,  but  hunger  returned;  I  have 
seen  many  bright  and  lovely  things,  but  while  I  gazed 
their  luster  faded.  There  is  nothing  here  that  can 
give  me  rest;  but  when  I  behold  Thee,  O  God!  I  shall 
be  satisfied/' 

No  wonder  that  the  heart  which  contemplates  such 
glory  finds  the  brightest  joys  of  earth  only  a  foretaste 
of  the  joys  to  come.  Words  are  too  feeble  to  portray, 
and  our  human  nature  too  finite  to  grasp,  the  ineffable 
blessedness  of  that  abode,  and  so  the  inspired  page  can 
only  reveal  to  us  glimpses  of  its  splendor  by  compar- 
ing it  with  whatever  is  most  costly  and  beautiful  here ; 
and  when  this  has  been  done,  we  are  still  assured  thai 
the  half  has  not  been  told,  for  Eye  hath  not  seen, 
nor  ear  heard,  neither  have  entered  into  the  heart  of 
man,  the  things  that  God  hath  prepared  for  them  that 
love  him/' 

A  little  heathen  child,  who  had  been  taught  by  the 
missionaries  of  God  and  heaven,  said,  as  she  looked  up 
into  the  starlit  sky:  "  How  beautiful  will  heaven  look 
when  we  get  there,  if  the  outside  is  so  fair/' 

That  immortal  dreamer,  Bunyan,  as  he  saw  Chris- 


39<5 


OUR  HEAVENLY  HOME. 


tian  and  Hopeful  enter  the  gates  of  the  celestial  city, 
thus  describes  its  incomparable  glory:  "  Now,  just  as 
the  gates  were  opened  to  let  in  the  men,  I  looked  in 
after  them,  and  behold,  the  city  shone  like  the  sun; 
the  streets,  also,  were  paved  with  gold;  and  in  them 
walked  many  men  with  crowns  on  their  heads,  palms 
in  their  hands,  and  golden  harps  to  sing  praises  withal." 

What  a  rapturous  vision  of  the  celestial  city  must 
have  appeared  to  the  devout  monk,  Bernard  of  Morlaix, 
as  he  wrote  that  wondrous  poem,  "  The  New  Jerusa- 
lem." 

"  They  stand,  those  halls  of  Zion, 

Conjubilant  with  song, 
And  bright  with  many  an  angel, 

And  all  the  martyr  throng. 
The  Prince  is  ever  in  them; 

The  daylight  is  serene; 
The  pastures  of  the  blessed 

Are  decked  in  glorious  sheen. 

*  *  *  * 

O  none  can  tell  thy  bulwarks; 

How  gloriously  they  rise; 
O  none  can  tell  thy  capitals 

Of  beautiful  device: 
Thy  loveliness  oppresses 

All  human  thought  and  heart: 
And  none,  O  peace,  O  Zion, 

Can  sing  thee  as  thou  art." 

Heaven  has  been  described  by  Dr.  Guthrie  as  "  a 
city  never  built  with  hands,  nor  hoary  with  the  years 
of  time;  a  city  whose  inhabitants  no  census  has  num- 
bered; a  city  through  whose  street  rushes  no  tide  of 
business,  nor  nodding  hearse  creeps  slowly  with  its  bur- 


OUR  HEAVENLY  HOME. 


397 


den  to  the  tomb ;  a  city  without  griefs  or  graves,  with- 
out sins  or  sorrows,  without  births  or  burials,  without 
marriages  or  mournings :  a  city  which  glories  in  having 
Jesus  for  its  king,  angels  for  its  guards,  saints  for 
citizens;  whose  walls  are  salvation,  and  whose  gates 
are  praise."  There  will  our  immortal  powers, 
which  are  shackled  here  by  the  bonds  and  limitations 
of  this  earthly  life,  find  scope  for  all  their  energies.  If 
this  were  not  to  be  so,  then  would  life  be  an  enigma; 
for  who  is  not  conscious  at  times  of  longings  and  aspi- 
rations which  we  feel  can  only  be  satisfied  by  a  wider 
and  more  glorious  sphere  of  activity.  What  is  it 
which  gives  the  soul  strength  to  exult  and  triumph  in 
the  hour  of  dissolution,  if  it  is  not  that  it  discerns  near 
at  hand  its  immortal  and  transcendently  happy  home. 

Said  the  ardent  Beecher:  "I  could  hardly  wish  to 
enter  heaven  did  I  believe  the  inhabitants  were  idly  to 
sit  by  purling  streams,  fanned  by  balmy  airs.  Heaven, 
to  be  a  place  of  happiness,  must  be  a  place  of  activity. 
Has  the  far-reaching  eye  of  Newton  ceased  its  profound 
investigations?  Has  David  hung  up  his  harp,  as  use- 
less as  the  dusty  arms  in  Westminster  Abbey?  Has 
Paul,  glowing  with  God-like  enthusiasm,  ceased  itin- 
erating the  universe  of  God?  David  and  Isaiah  will 
sweep  nobler  and  loftier  strains  in  eternity;  and  the 
minds  of  the  saints,  unclogged  by  cumbersome  clay, 
will  forever  feast  on  the  banquet  of  rich  and  glorious 
thought.11 

It  is  the  custom  of  the  fishermen's  wives  on  the 


398 


OUR  HEAVENLY  HOME. 


Adriatic  coast  to  gather  together  at  the  close  of  day, 
on  the  shore,  and  unite  in  singing  some  beautiful  hymn, 
— and  as  the  melody  floats  out  over  the  waters,  it  is 
heard  and  answered  by  the  home-bound  fishermen;  so, 
often,  are  we  cheered  on  our  heavenward  way  by  the 
angelic  voices  of  loved  ones  who  are  awaiting  us  in  the 
happy  "Isles  of  the  Blessed.1' 

"  When  I  was  a  boy,"  said  a  noted  divine,  "  I  thought 
of  heaven  as  a  great,  shining  city,  with  vast  walls,  and 
domes  and  spires,  and  with  nobody  in  it  except  white 
tenuous  angels,  who  were  strangers  to  me.  By  and  by 
my  little  brother  died;  and  I  thought  of  a  great  city 
with  walls,  and  domes,  and  spires,  and  a  flock  of  cold, 
unknown  angels,  and  one  little  fellow  that  I  was 
acquainted  with.  Then  another  brother  died;  and 
there  were  two  that  I  knew.  Then  my  acquaintances 
began  to  die;  and  the  flock  continually  grew.  But  it 
was  not  until  I  had  sent  one  of  my  little  children  to  his 
grandparent — God — that  I  began  to  think  that  I  had 
got  a  little  in  myself.  A  second  went;  a  third  went;  a 
fourth  went;  and  by  that  time  I  had  so  many  acquaint- 
ances in  heaven  that  I  did  not  see  any  more  walls,  and 
domes,  and  spires.  I  began  to  think  of  the  residents  of 
the  celestial  city.  And  now  there  have  so  many  of  my 
acquaintances  gone  there,  that  it  sometimes  seems  to 
me  that  I  know  more  in  heaven  than  I  do  on  earth." 

James  Martineau  has  written  on  this  theme  the  fol- 
lowing beautiful  words:  "When  in  the  sanctuary  of 
the  affections  the  lights  are  almost  extinguished, — when 


OUR  HEAVENLY   HOME.  399 

the  solitude  would  be  not  to  depart,  but  to  remain, — 
we  may  well  and  naturally  feel  that  it  is  time  to  go, 
and  our  prayer  may  be  speedily  withdrawn  to  the  place 
of  rest.  For  now,  whatever  may  be  the  indistinctness 
of  the  future,  the  group  of  friendship  are  there,  and 
wherever  they  are  is  a  shelter  and  a  home.  However 
strange  to  us  the  place  may  be  in  which  they  dwell,  if, 
as  we  cross  the  deeps  of  death,  their  visionary  forms 
shall  crowd  the  shore  and  people  the  hills  of  that  un- 
visited  abode,  it  will  be  to  us  'a  better  country,  even  a 
heavenly.'  " 

44  The  land  beyond  the  sea! 
Oh,  how  the  lapsing  years, 
Mid  our  not  unsubmissive  tears, 
Have  borne,  now  singly,  now  in  fleets,  the  biers 

Of  those  we  love,  to  thee, 

Calm  land  beyond  the  sea! 

44  The  land  beyond  the  sea! 
When  will  our  toil  be  done? 
Slow-footed  years!  more  swiftly  run 
Into  the  gold  of  that  unsetting  sun! 

Homesick  we  are  for  thee, 

Calm  land  beyond  the  sea!" 


Morks  of  D.  L.  Moody 


By  the  strenuous  cultivation  of  his  gift  Mr.  Moody  has  attained  to  a  clear  and  in 
cisive  style  which  preachers  ought  to  study;  and  he  has  the  merit,  which  many  more  cul- 
tivated men  lack,  of  saying  nothing  that  does  not  tend  to  the  enforcement  of  the  particu- 
lar truth  he  is  enunciating.  He  knows  how  to  disencumber  his  text  of  all  extraneous 
matter,  and  exhibits  his  wisdom  as  a  preacher  hardly  less  by  what  he  leaves  out  than  by 
what  he  includes.  Apart  from  its  primary  purpose  each  of  these  books  has  a  distinct 
value  as  a  lesson  on  homiletics  to  ministers  and  students. —  The  Christian  Leader. 

Bible  Characters. 

Prevailing  Prayer;  What  Hinders  It.  Thirtieth  Thousand 

To  the  Work !  To  the  Work  !  A  Trumpet  Call.  Thir- 
tieth Thousand. 

The  Way  to  God  and  How  to  Find  It,    One  Hundred 

and  Fifth  Thousand. 
Heaven;  its  Hope;  its  Inhabitants;  its  Happiness;  its  Riches; 

its  Reward.    One  Hundred  and  Twenty-Fifth  Thousand. 
Secret  Power;  or  the  Secret  of  Success  in  Christian  Life 

and  Work.    Seventy-Second  Thousand, 

Twelve  Select  Sermons.    One  Hundred  and  Sixty-Fifth 
Thousand. 

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Daniel,  the  Prophet.    Tenth  Thousand.   Paper  cover,  20c. 
cloth,  40c. 

The  Full  Assurance  of  Faith.  Seventh  Thousand.  Some 

thoughts  on  Christian  confidence.    Paper  cover,  15c,;  cloth,  25c. 

The  Way  and  the  Word.    Sixty-Fifth  Thousand.  Com- 
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Inquiry  Meetings.      By  Mr.  Moody  and  Maj.  Whittle. 

Paper,  15c. 

Gospel  Booklets.    By  D.  L.  Moody.    12  separate  sermons. 

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REFERENCE,  BOOKS 


FOR 


BIBLE  &TUL>ENTS. 


JAMIESON,  FAUSSET  &  BROWN'S  Popular  Portable  Com- 
mentary. Critical,  Practical,  Explanatory.  Four  volumns  in  neat 
box,  fine  cloth,  $ 8.00;  half  bound,  $10.00. 

A  new  edition,  containing  the  complete  unabridged  notes  in  clear  type  on  good  paper, 
in  four  handsome  12  mo.  volumes  of  about  1.000  pages  each,  with  copious  index,  numerous 
illustrations  and  maps,  and  a  Bible  Dictionary  compiled  from  Dr.  Wm.  Smith's  standard 
work. 

Bishop  Vincent  of  Chautauqua  fame  says  :  The  best  condensed  commentary  on  the 
whole  Bible  is  Jamieson,  Fausset  &  Brown." 

CRU  DEN'S  UNABRIDGED  CONCORDANCE  TO  THE 
HOLY  SCRIPTURES.  With  life  of  the  author.  864  pp.,  8vo., 
cloth  (net),  $1.00;  half  roan,  sprinkled  edges  (net),  2.00;  half  roan, 
full  gilt  edges  (net),  $2.50. 

SMITH'S  BIBLE  DICTIONARY,  comprising  its  Antiquities,  Biog- 
raphy, Geography  and  Natural  History,  with  numerous  maps  and  illus- 
trations. Edited  and  condensed  from  his  great  work  by  William 
Smith,  LL.  D.    776  pages.  8vo,  many  illustrations,  cloth,  $1.50. 

THE  BIBLE  TEXT  CYCLOPEDIA.     A  complete  classification  of 
Scripture  Texts  in  the  form  of  an  alphabetical  list  of  subjects.  By 
Rev.  James  Inglis.    Large  8vo,  524  pages,  cloth,  $1.75. 
The  plan  is  much  the  same  as  the  "  Bible  Text  Book"  with  the  valuable  additional 

help  in  that  the  texts  referred  to  are  quoted  in  full.    Thus  the  student  is  saved  the  time  and 

labor  of  turning  to  numerous  passages,  which,  when  found,  may  not  be  pertinent  to  the 

subject  he  has  in  hand. 


THE  TREASURY  OF  SCRIPTURE  KNOWLEDGE;  consist- 


ing of  500,000  scripture  references  and  parallel  passages,  with  numer- 
ous notes.    8vo,  778  pages,  cloth,  $2.00. 

A  single  examination  of  this  remarkable  compilation  of  references  will  convince  the 
reader  of  the  fact  that  "  the  Bible  is  its  own  best  interpreter." 

THE  WORKS  OF  FLAVIUS  JOSEPHUS,  translated  by  William 
Whiston,  A.  M.,  with  Life,  Portrait,  Notes  and  Index.  A  new  cheap 
edition  in  clear  type.    Large  8vo,  684  pages,  cloth,  $2.00. 


100.000  SYNONYMS  AND  ANTONYMS.     By  Rt.  Rev.  Samuel 
Fallows,  A.  M.,  D.  D.    512  pages,  cloth,  $1.00. 


A  complete  Dictionary  of  synonyms  and  words  of  opposite  meanings,  with  an  appen- 
dix of  Briticisms,  Americanisms,  Colloquialisms,  Homonims,  Homophonous  words,  Foreign 
Phrases,  etc.,  etc. 

"  This  is  one  of  the  best  books  of  its  kind  we  have  seen,  and  probably  there  is  nothing 
published  in  the  country  that  is  equal  to  it." — Y.  M.  C.  A.  Watchman. 


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oOHAND  BOOKS  FOR  BIBLE  3TUDENT8!» 


THE  LIFE  OF  CHRIST.  Rev.  Jas.  Stalker,  M.  A.  A  new 
edition,  with  introduction  by  Rev.  Geo.  C.  Lorimer,  D.  D.  i2mo. 
cloth,  166  pages,  60  cents. 

This  work  is  in  truth  "M ultum  in  Parvo"  containing  within  small  compass  a  vast 
amount  of  most  helpful  teaching,  so  admirably  arranged  that  the  reader  gathers  with  re- 
markable definiteness  the  whole  revealed  record  of  the  life  work  of  our  Lord  in  a  nutshell 
of  space  and  with  a  minimum  of  study. 

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cloth,  184  pages,  60  cents. 

As  admirable  a  work  as  the  exceedingly  popular  volume  by  this  author  on  "  The  Life 
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"An  exceedingly  compact  life  of  the  Apostle  to  the  Gentiles.  It  is  bristling  with 
information,  and  is  brief,  yet  clear.  As  an  outline  of  Paul's  life  it  cannot  be  surpassed."  — 
N.  Y.  Chris4ian  Inquirer. 

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One  of  those  helpful  works,  worth  its  price,  multiplied  by  several  scores.  It  con- 
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the  Bible,  their  writers,  etc.,  also  a  synopsis  of  the  life  and  work  of  our  Lord,  and  complete 
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THE  TOPICAL  TEXT  BOOK.    i6mo.  cloth,  292  pages,  60  cents. 

A  remarkably  complete  and  helpful  Scripture  text  book  for  the  topical  study  of  the 
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FIFTY-TWO  LESSONS  ON  (1)  The  Works  of  Our  Lord  ;  (2)  Claims 
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OUTLINE  OF  THE  BOOKS  OF  THE  BIBLE.  By  Rev.  J.  H. 
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"  First  Lesson  "  in  the  study  of  the  Book.  180  pages.  Cloth,  50  cents; 
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To  all  disciples  of  Christ  this  work  commends  itself  at  once  by  its  grasp  of  truth, 
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amazement  and  awe.    It  is  the  very  book  to  put  into  the  hands  of  an  intelligent  Agnostic." 

—  The  Christian,  London. 

MANY  INFALLIBLE  PROOFS.  By  Rev.  Arthur  T.  Pierson, 
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"  It  is  not  an  exercise  in  mental  gymnastics,  but  an  earnest  inquiry  after  the  truth."— 
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"  He  does  not  believe  that  the  primary  end  of  the  Bible  is  to  teach  science  ;  but  he 
argues  with  force  and  full  conviction  that  nothing  in  the  Bible  has  been  shaken  by  scientific 
research." — Independent. 

HOW  I  REACHED  THE  MASSES;  Together  with  twenty-two 
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There  is  much  of  very  welcome  good  sense  and  practical  illustration  in  these  addresses. 
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ENDLESS  BEING;  or,  Man  Made  for  Eternity.     By  Rev.  J.  L. 

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■with  the  ground  he  covers.    It  is  a  work  which  should  be  widely  circulated. 

PAPERS  ON  PREACHING.  By  the  Right  Rev.  Bishop  Baldwin, 
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"An  incisive  and  effective  discussion  of  the  subject." — N.  Y.  Observer. 

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The  "  Practical  Talks  "  as  given  in  report  of  last  year's  gathering-,  the  demand  for 
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Dr.  A .  T.  Pier-son  writes  :  44  Admirable  book.  I  deem  it  one  of  the  best  of  all  the 
practical  helps  issued  by  the  press." 

Dr.  Joseph  Cook.—  "  It  is  well  edited,  well  printed,  and  well  inspired  from  on  High. 
Is  full  of  a  Holy  Fire  of  spiritual  zeal,  which  I  hope  to  see  spread  far  and  wide." 

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A  COLLEGE  OF  COLLEGES;  or,  Practical  Talks  to  College 

Students.    Given  in  July,  1887,  by  Prof.  Henry  Drummond,  F.'R.S.S., 
Rev.  J.  A.  Broadus,  D.D.,  Prof.  Townsend,  Rev.  A.  T.  Pierson.D.D., 
Mr.  D.  L.  Moody,  and  others.    i2mo,  288  pp.,  cloth,  $1.00  net. 
"  Of  signal  value." — Chautauqua  Herald. 

"We  commend  this  volume  very  cordially." — Presbyterian  Witness. 
"  The  volume  closes  with  a  chapter  of  '  nuggets  '  from  Northfield,  which  is  no  excep- 
tion, however,  as  the  other  chapters  are  equally  rich  in  '  nuggets.'  " — The  Independent. 

D.  L.  MOODY  AT  HOME.    His  Home  and  Home  Work. 

Embracing  a  description  of  the  educational  institutions  established  at 
Northfield,  Mass.,  together  with  an  account  of  the  various  noted  gath- 
erings of  Christian  workers  at  the  place,  and  the  most  helpful  and  sug- 
gestive lectures,  and  the  best  thoughts  there  exchanged  ;  adding,  also, 
many  helpful  and  practical  results.  288  pp.,  clo.,  8  illustrations,  $1.00. 
The  New  York  Independent  says:  "  There  is  nothing  in  the  career  of  this  remark- 
able man  more  striking  than  his  work  at  Northfield." 

The  New  York  Evangelist  spoke  most  truly  when  it  said  :  "  The  public  is  unaware 
of  Mr.  Moody's  enormous  investments  at  Northfield,  that  will  pay  him  abundant  interest 
long  after  he  reaches  heaven."  . 


NEW  YORK:  ClpmintiH    ftPUPlI  CHICAGO: 

12 Bible  House,  Astor  PI.     {  1  °l 1 I1  V  5  / 1  *  v  ^ 1 1      748  &  150  Madison  St. 


MISSIONARY  PUBLICATIONS 


REPORT  OF  THE  CENTENARY  CONFERENCE  on  the 

Protestant  Missions  of  the  World.    Held  in  London,  June,  1888. 

Edited  by  the  Rev.  James  Johnston,  F.  S.  S.,  Secretary  of  the  Con- 
ference.   Two  large  8vo.  vols.,  1200  pages,  $2.00  net  per  set. 

An  important  feature  in  this  report,  lack  of  which  has  prejudiced  many  against  reports 
in  general,  is  the  special  care  taken  by  the  Editor,  who  has  succeeded  in  making  the  work 
an  interesting  and  accurate  reproduction  of  the  most  important  accumulation  of  facts  from 
the  Mission  Fields  of  the  World,  as  given  by  the  representatives  of  all  the  Evangelical 
Societies  of  Christendom. 

And  another:  The  exceptionally  complete  and  helpful  indexing  of  the  entire  work  in 
such  a  thorough  manner  as  to  make  it  of  the  greatest  value  as  a  Reference  Encyclopedia  on 
mission  topics  for  years  to  come. 

THE  MISSIONARY  YEAR  BOOK  FOR  1889-90.  Containing 
Historical  and  Statistical  accounts  of  the  Principle  Protestant  Missionary 
Societies  in  America,  Great  Britain  and  the  Continent  of  Europe. 

The  American  edition,  edited  by  Rev.  J.  T.  Gracey,  D.D.,  of  Buffalo,  embraces 
about  460  pages,  pne-feurth  being  devoted  to  the  work  of  American  Societies,  and  will 
contain  Maps  of  India,  China  Japan,  Burmah,  and  Siam;  also  a  language  Map  of  India 
and  comparative  diagrams  illustrating  areas,  population  and  progress  of  Mission  work. 
This  compilation  will  be  the  best  presentation  of  the  work  of  the  American  Societies  in 
Pagan  Lands  that  has  yet  been  given  to  the  public.  The  book  is  strongly  recommended  by 
Rev.  Jas.  Johnston,  F.S.S.,  as  a  companion  volume  to  the  Report  of  the  Century  Con- 
ference on  Missions.    Cloth,  12mo.  $1.25. 

GARENGANZE :  or,  Seven  Years'  Pioneer  Missionary  Work 
in  Central  Africa.  By  Fred.  S.  Arnot,  with  introduction  by  Rev. 
A.  T.  Pierson,  D.D.    Twenty  Illustrations  and  an  original  Map. 

The  author's  two  trips  across  Africa,  entirely  unarmed  and  unattended  except  by  the 
local  and  constantly  changing  carriers,  and  in  such  marked  contrast  with  many  modern  ad- 
venturers, strongly  impress  one  to  ask  if  another  Livingstone  has  not  appeared  among  us. 
Traversing  where  no  white  man  had  ever  been  seen  before  ana  meeting  kings  and  chiefs 
accustomed  only  to  absolute  power,  he  demanded  and  received  attention  in  the  name  of  his 
God.    Cioth  8vo,  290  pages,  $1.25. 

IN  THE  FAR  EAST  :  China  Illustrated.    Letters  from  Gerald- 

ine  Guinness.  Edited  by  her  sister,  with  Introduction  by  Rev.  A.  J. 
Gordon,  D.  D.  A  characteristic  Chinese  cover.  Cloth  4to,  138  pages, 
$1.00. 

CONTENTS. 


"Good-Bye  !" 

Second  Class. 

On  the  Way  to  China. 

Hong-Kong  and  Shanghai. 

First  days  in  the  Flowery  Land 

Opium  Suicides  amongst  Women. 


Ten  Days  on  a  Chinese  Canal. 
At  Home  in  our  Chinese  "  Haddon  Hall.' 
By  Wheelbarrow  to  Antong. 
Life  on  a  Chinese  Farm. 
A  Visit  to  the  "  Shun  "  City. 
Blessing — and  Need  of  Blessing — 
In  the  Far  Eas'.;. 


Rev.  C.  H.  Spurgeon,  writes: 

"  I  have  greatly  enjoyed  1  In  the  Far  East.'  God  blessing  it,  the  book  should  send 
armies  of  believers  to  invade  the  Flowry  Land." 

The  author  is  to  be  congratulated  fo.  the  taste  and  beauty  with  which  these  letters 
are  now  put  into  permanent  form.  A  full  page  colored  map  of  China  enhances  this  ad- 
mirable gift  book. 


mSSSu.  Fleming.  I^evell 


CHICAGO: 
148  &  150  Madison  St. 


Popular  Missionary  Biographies. 

T2mo,  160  pages.    Fully  illustrated;  cloth  extra,  75  cents  each. 

From  The  Missionary 

Herald : 

"We  commended  this 
series  in  our  last  issue, 
and  a  further  examina- 
tion leads  us  to  renew  our 
commendation,  and  to 
urge  the  placing  of  this 
series  of  missionary-  books 
in  ail  our  Sabbath-school 
libraries. 

These  books  are  hand- 
somely printed  and  bound, 
and  are  beautifully  illus- 
trated, and  we  are  confi- 
dent that  they  will  prove 
attractive  to  all  young 
people." 

SAMUEL  CROWTHER,  the  Slave  Boy  who  became  Bishop  of 

the  Niger.    By  Jesse  Page,  author  of  "  Bishop  Patterson." 
THOMAS  J.  COMBER,  Missionary  Pioneer  to  the  Congo.  By 

Rev.  J.  B.  Myers,  Association  Secretary  Baptist  Missionary  Society, 
BISHOP  PATTESON,  the  Martyr  of  Melanesia.  By  Jesse  Pagb, 
GRIFFITH  JOHN,   Founder  of  the  Hankow  Mission,  Centra* 

China.    By  Wm.  Robson,  of  the  London  Missionary  Society. 
ROBERT  MORRISON,  the  Pioneer  of  Chinese  Missions.  By 

Wm.  J.  Town  send,  Sec.  Methodist  New  Connexion  Missionary  Soc'y. 
ROBERT  MOFFAT,  the  Missionary  Hero  of  Kuruman.  By  David 

J.  Deane,  author  of  "  Martin  Luther,  the  Reformer,"  etc. 
WILLIAM  CAREY,  the  Shoemaker  who  became  a  Missionary. 

By  Rev.  J.  B.  Myers,  Association  Secretary  Baptist  Missionary  Society. 
JAMES  CHALMERS,  Missionary  and  Explorer  of  Rarotonga 

and  New  Guinea.  Bv  Wm.  Robson,  of  the  London  Missionary  Soc'y. 
MISSIONARY  LADIES  IN  FOREIGN  LANDS.    By  Mrs.  E.  R. 

Pilman,  author  of  "  Heroines  of  the  Mission  Fields,"  etc. 
JAMES  CALVERT  ;  or,  From  Dark  to  Dawn  in  Fiji. 
JOHN  WILLIAMS,  the  Martyr  of  Erromanga.     By  Rev.  James 

J.  Ellis. 

UNIFORM  WITH  THE  ABOVE. 

JOHN  BRIGHT,  the  Man  of  the  People.    By  Jesse  Page,  author  of 

"  Bishop  Patteson,"  "  Samuel  Crowther,"  etc. 
HENRY  M.  STANLEY,  the  African  Explorer.  By  Arthur  Monte- 

fiore,  F.R.G.S.     Brought  down  to  1889. 
DAVID  LIVINGSTON,  his  Labors  and  his  Legacy. 


Rev.  C.  H.  Spurgeon, 
writes  : 

"  Crowded  with  facts 
that  both  interest  and  in- 
spire, we  can  conceive  of 
no  better  plan  to  spread 
the  Missionary  spirit  than 
the  multiplying  of  such 
biographies;  and  we 
would  specially  commend 
this  series  to  those  who 
have  the  management  of 
libraries  and  selection  of 
prizes  in  our  Sunday 
Schools." 


mSSSSLm.  Fleming,  l^euell 


CHICAGO: 
148  &  150  Madison  8t 


Attractive  Truths  in  Lesson  and  Story.  By  Mrs.  A.  M.  Scudder,  with 
introduction  by  Rev.  F.  E  Clarke,  Prest.  Y.  P.  S.  C.  E.  12  mo; 
cloth,  $1  25. 

A  series  of  outline  lessons  with  illustrative  stories  for  Junior  Christian  Endeavor 
Societies,  for  Children's  meetings  and  for  home  teaching. 

Not  only  for  workers  among  children  will  this  work  be  appreciated,  but  mothers 
will  find  it  a  delightful  Sunday  afternoon  volume  for  their  children,  suggesting  an  end- 
less variety  of  "occupations,"  besides  charming  with  its  many  beautiful  stories. 

Children's  Meetings  and  How  to  Conduct  Them.    By  Lucy  J.  Rider, 
and  Nellie  M.  Carman,  introduction  by  Bishop  J.  H.  Vincent.  208 
pp.,  cloth,  illustrated,  $1  00;  paper  covers,  50  cents. 
"Mr,  Revell  has  conferred  a  favor  on  the  Christian  public,  especially  that  large 
part  of  it  interested  in  the  right  training  of  children,  in  publishing  this  most  practical 
work." — The  Advance. 

"Just  such  a  work  as  teachers  have  long  wanted.  It  will  at  once  take  a  place 
among  the  indispensables.'1 — N.  T.  Observer. 

"Among  the  contributors  to  this  volume  are  nearly  all  the  best  known  Sunday- 
school  writers  of  this  country.  The  book  is  a  cyclopedia  of  helpful  hints  on  the  best 
plans  of  working  among  the  children,  plans  suggested  by  the  actual  experience  of  the 
contributors. " 

Clear  as  Crystal.  By  Rev.  R  T.  Cross.  Fifty,  five  minute  talks  on  les- 
sons from  Crystals.    206  pp.,  beveled  cloth,  $1  00. 

"The  Sermons  belong  to  the  five  minute  series,  and  are  models  of  what  can  be 
done  in  so  brief  a  space."— The  Independent. 

"Most  interesting  in  style,  and  full  of  spirituality .  We  commend  this  volume  es- 
pecially to  teachers  who  understand  the  value  of  fresh  illustrations  from  nature." — 
The  Christian  at  Work. 

Talks  to  Children.  By  Rev.  T-  T.  Eaton,  D.  D.,  with  introduction  by 
Rev.  John  A.  Broadus,  D.  D.,  LL.  D.     16  mo.  cloth,  $1  00. 

"Dr.  Eaton's  Talks  appear  to  us  to  possess  in  an  unusual  degrte  the  qualities 
which  interest  and  profit  young  hearers  and  readers.  They  reproduce  Scripture  his- 
tory in  the  terms  of  modern  life  and  give  it  both  a  vivid  setting  before  the  youthful 
imagination,  and  a  firm  grip  on  the  youthful  conscience." — The  Independent. 

"We  have  examined  this  work  with  intense  interest.  We  have  read  many  books 
of  this  kind,  but  -we  honestly  believe  that  this  volume  of  Dr.  Eaton's  excels  them  all.'1'' — 
Central  Baptist. 

"The  best  book  of  the  kind  we  remember  to  have  seen.  We  commend  it  especially 
to  parents  reading  aloud  to  their  children  Sunday  afternoon0" — Examiner. 

Short  Talks  to  Young  Christians,  on  the  Evidences  of  Christianity. 
By  Rev.  C.  O.  Brown.  168  pages,  cloth,  50c,  paper,  30  cents. 
"Books  that  are  reallv  useful,  on  the  evidences  of  Christianity,  could  almost  be 
counted  on  one's  fingers.  One  which  has  been  singled  out  from  a  host  of  others  by  its 
plain  straight  forward  sense  is  'Short  Talks  to  Young  Christians  on  the  Evidences1, 
by  the  Rev.  C.  O.  Brown."— Sunday  School  Times. 

Conversion  of  Children.  By  Rev.  E.  P.  Hammond.  A  practical  volume 
replete  with  incident  and  illustration.  Suggestive,  important  and  timely. 
184  pages,  cloth,  75  cents,  paper  cover,  30  cents. 

Young  People's  Christian  Manual.  By  Rev.  Chas  L.  Morgan.  32mo. 
booklet,  5  cents;  25  copies,  $1  00. 

A  Catechetical  Manual  for  the  instruction  of  the  young  for  use  in  Pastors'  Train- 
ing Classes,  Societies  of  Christian  Endeavor,  Sunday  School,  or  Family. 

"I  have  for  years  felt  the  need  of  something  of  this  sort.  I  wish  the  Manual, 
might  be  wanted  as  widely  as  I  am  sure  it  is  needed." — Josiah  Strong,  D.  Z>.,  author 
KtOur  Country." 

12  BM^H^^Astor  PI.    F^^^  P*   ^^"»  /^/joAW«M»5/. 


RESTORED  BY 

MARKING  &  REPAIR  STAFF 
DATE:   ,1987 


